In the Name of the (True) King
by Hhall2014
Summary: Uther has grown up in the small village of Riverwood. The only life he has ever known is that of a small town hunter. After the rescue of a friend from Helgen and the subsequent raid on Riverwood by the Thalmor, Uther sets out on a journey that will shape the fate of Skyrim and the Empire. Will update once a week.
1. A New Face in Town

**In The Name of the (True) King**

**New Face in Town**

**AN:In this chapter I really am just setting up my story. I wanted to give some character development. I did not want it to be a story where the reader has no clue what is happening unless I explain it in the Author Notes. **

**The Rebellion hasn't started in full yet and won't until chapter 5 or 6. The Stormcloak militia is already here and fighting for the Nordic way of life. It has been around since the Markarth Incident. It is lore proven truth. Check the game lore. **

**Also, before I get into the story. Tulius isn't some random general sent to Skyrim. He is Tulius Mede. I've used Stannis Baratheon as the basis of his character. He won't be a clone. But he is similar. No humor, very serious, very militant. His is the eldest son of the Emperor and heir apparent. I am using this template to set up further stories. I will do this with several characters throughout this story. **

I awoke yet again to my brother's snoring in the next room below mine. Roland worked as an alarm, every morning he woke me up snoring as loudly as he could. People have burst into my families home ready to fight the animal that was inside. It was always funny to see the look on their faces when they found out it was my brother. After fully waking up, I grabbed today's clothes, some linen wraps, and my soap and headed to the wash tub. As I began to get ready for a day of hunting with Faendal I became lost in thought. I was thinking of myself. I had just turned twenty and am still living at home with my Da. I am no better than Roland. Da said we were twins, though I never saw it, and there was no one to argue that. Ma died when I was twelve, and no one in town knew us before Da moved in after the war. Roland is tall, broad shouldered with hay colored hair. He had let it grow wavy down to his shoulders. His eyes were a deep brown, the color of the earth after being turned for a fresh harvest. His arms swollen from work. My brother is the ideal Nord.

I however am around six feet tall. While this puts me taller than most men, I am short for a Nord. Most Nords grow between six foot three inches and six foot five inches. I am not a little man by no means. Where my brother is thick from working the bellows with Alvor, the town blacksmith, and Da, who helps Alvor out, I am about medium sized. My legs long and lean from running through the forests of Whiterun Hold. My arms are tight and toned from swinging an axe at Gerdur's mill and hunting in the forests. My hair it shoulder length and just as brown as my brother's eyes. I have it braided in the Nordic way. The braid runs down the side of my head near my temple. I have three scars from when I first learning to hunt. A wolf had snuck up behind me. As I turned it jumped. It barreled into me, my dagger sinking into it's heart as it's claws went for my throat. I guess I am lucky he only got my cheek.

I feel like the black sheep of my family. My Da was a war hero, he served under Ulfric Stormcloak through the Imperial City campaign. Roggar, my father was a member of the task force that rescued Ulfric from Thalmor captivity. He went on to serve Ulfric during the Markarth Incident. Roggar was a proud legionnaire until they took away our right to worship Talos. He enlisted as soon as he came of age and did not leave the service until Mathoc, the mad general of the Reach crippled him during the last fight in the city. Mathoc caved in my father's knees before breaking three ribs. My father could no longer serve in the military.

After the fighting was over the mages healed my father as best as they could. He would no longer serve in the legion, but he was not an invalid. My mother was a nurse at the field hospital. They fell in love as she nurtured him back to health. They stayed in Markarth for two years where they gave birth to my brother and me. They heard of land being sold on the border of Whiterun Hold and Falkreath so they packed up what little possession they had and moved to Riverwood. They took over the abandoned Embershard Mine. We weren't rich but we were definitely not hurting for money.

My mother, Helvi, was a woman who praised the Gods and raised her children to do so as well. She was a small woman who looked odd standing next to my mountain of a father. She could read and write, cook and clean, and tend wounds. She taught us to do all those things. When I was twelve she walked into the mine where Da worked. Bandits had Da at sword point. They were robbing Da of all the mine's money. When Mom walked in they shoved a sword through her stomach. Da grabbed a pickaxe off the ground and killed the three bandits. He has blamed himself ever since. He never took a new wife or even courted a different woman.

My brother is an ox of a man. Large and dumb. Roland was never serious as a young child and never grew out of that stage. When Hod needs trees felled from the forest. He will send Roland with several axes. I'll go out with him to hunt and make sure he isn't left unprotected while he works. Half a days work later, Hod and Gerdur would have several trees floating down the river to them.

I love the way I was raised. I love the whole family first thing. I love that this entire town sticks together no matter what, but I hate living here. There is nothing against this town, I just feel like I am destined for so much more. I feel like someday I will change the world. I want to travel to Solitude and see the High King and his young wife. Toryyg and Elisif are my age. Toryyg just came into his crown when his father passed. I want to visit the Imperial City. Dare I say it, but one day I want to visit Alinor and see where the greatest minds of the previous eras have met. I want to travel to Morrowind and see Red Mountain, I desire to see the moving tree cities of Valenwood. I want to see a Khajit and an Argonian. I never will be able to here in Riverwood. I want to eat exotic foods that my parents have never heard of. I want to meet foreign people. I want to meet foreign women. I want to amass a fortune and live like a king. No, a High King. I want to be someone known throughout the world. I want to make a legacy that will last for many generations. I want to live a life I can look down from Sovngarde and be proud of.

I have often dreamed of being an Imperial Scout or a professional adventurer. Da trained us to never fear something we could overcome. Dad taught us how to use a weapon of our choice. Roland picked a huge war hammer that could cave in the ribs of a bear fattened for winter. Da was so proud. The look of disappointment when I chose the short sword favored by the Imperial Legion scouts and gladiator fighters. He was so upset he had Faendal train me instead of him teaching me. Thanks to years of needing to hunt I am become very accurate with a bow. As most Nords think a bow is for Imperials, I was taught how to shoot by Faendal. Faendal is the only elf I have ever met before, well ever seen before. He served with my father during the Great War. He came here with my father after the Markarth Incident. Since Da used to be a legionnaire Roland and myself grew up using dulled swords in the yard. I have spent most of my life training under my Da. He always said his house would be defended by Talos' Hammer and a sword.

Ma and Da raised us to worship the Nines. The raised us to live a life according to the Divines command. If we sin, we need forgiveness. If we want something seek out the Nine. We were taught to humbly serve in whatever way we could. That became ingrained into our minds. I can speak to people about the Divines. When we were younger a traveling priest stopped and spoke to us. I was fascinated by the idea that no matter how much I sinned the Divines would forgive me if I asked them. I couldn't figure out why Lorkhan would willingly give up his life for mine. Before the priest left, I had him teach me how to speak to people.

Faendal would occasionally make a trip into Whiterun to buy items we needed or sell surplus goods. When it was a trip to buy stuff we needed I knew I would receive nothing. If we had a surplus though I could expect any sort of present. I would get steel tipped arrows instead of the iron ones I normally used. Once he bought me a dagger used by the Companions, Skyforge Steel he called it. Once I started studying, around sixteen, Faendal would buy me books about not only the Nine Divines, but the Daedra, the ancestor worship of the Dunmer, and the Hist worship of the Argonians. He wanted me to not persecute others for their belief. He once told me the world had enough hatred, we need more joy. If Talos brings that joy through me, then I need to be able to understand others better.

Faendal doesn't believe in Talos. Everyone knows that. I honestly do not think anyone really judges him for it. He says he worships the pantheon of Valenwood. He doesn't eat plants. He says he is a true Green-Pact believer. A Bosmeri god once made a pact with the Bosmer people. They were to only eat meat, no plants, and in return the god would bless them. Faendal says some Bosmer only believe in not eating the plants of Valenwood, but some believe the way the pact is set up means that he can eat no plants what so ever.

Faendals belief isn't that much different than mine. Talos and the Green-Pact are the only major differences. People claim to not worship Talos, yet shrines are all over the province. Many people worship him at home. Many believers however would rather denounce the Ninth Divine than honor him. The Thalmor are to blame for this cowardice. The will kill any person elf or man who claims Talos is a Divine. If it is not how they believe then they will gladly kidnap you and kill you. This has led to a growing resistance by many people in Skyrim.

At the fore front of this resistance is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl Ulfric was training to be a Greybeard and worship the Divines for the rest of his life at a hermitage when he found out his older brother ,heir to the Jarlship of Windhelm, was killed during the opening days of the Great War. Ulfric left the Graybeards and joined the Legion. He eventually became a Legate and a famous war hero. After the war he became the Jarl of Windhelm. During the Markarth Incident, Ulfric led a militia against the Reachman. He liberated the Reach on the promise they could worship Talos there. After he liberated the city the Thalmor cracked down on Talos worship breaking the promise made to Ulfric. Ulfric's militia became known as the Stormcloaks and have slowly been spreading the seeds of rebellion for twenty years. Ulfric has not openly opposed the Empire, but his views are well known.

I lean more towards Ulfrics side than I do the Empire's side. I think the Empire provides security and financial support for its citizens, but only security from things it finds dangerous, and they only send aid to those in need to their eyes. Winterhold was formerly an amazing city, it was one if the largest in Skyrim. For around two hundred years, Winterhold has sat as a ruined city barely managing to get by. The Empire has done little to help the once proud city. If it were a city in Cyrodiil however, the Emperor would have personally sent aid.

If only the Empire stood as it used to, in the days of the Septims. No man remembers those days anymore. All who were alive then are now dead, well all but the magically gifted old people. The elves remember,but not many of them are talking about it now. The Dominion's elves never speak of the Septims, the Dunmer are too busy rebuilding Morrowind or making new lives to reminisce. Faendal speaks of the Septims when he is drunk. When Faendal is drunk he will talk for hours about how everything was before the War. He speaks about how the Empire used to be united. He talks of people banding together during hardships. He talked about how the people of Valenwood bringing fresh meat to Cyrodiil one year during a particularly bad harvest. He was just a child during the Oblivion Crises. No more than ten years old, yet can still remember Martin Septim. That's a legacy. Because things are no longer this way many people have lost faith in the Empire. The last remaining faith in the Empire of Man was lost at the signing of the White-Gold Concordant. A man was more willing to keep a throne that was not rightfully his than to fight for the throne he had attempted to claim.

I personally believe if Skyrim can gain independence and ally itself with Hammerfell or Black Marsh then we might have a fighting chance against the Aldmeri Dominion. People like Alvor believe that if we are separate we will fall, and he may be correct. Yet, at the same time I believe it is our right as free people to believe the way we want to; If a government tries to take that away then they no longer have the right to govern us. It is our duty as free men to overthrow the tyranny of the Mede empire.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I walked down the street of Riverwood. Faendal was waiting for me at the gate. I want that. Faendal smiled his usual crap eating grin. He took his bow off his shoulder. He unstrung the carrying string and strung the hunting string. I began to do the same.

"What took so long? Take too long to bathe again?" Faendal grinned.

"Just thinking again Faendal, thats it. Thinking.." I replied. There is so much more I want to say but I can't.

"Well talk to me. That's why I am here. I am two hundred and eight years old,but I am still young for an elf. Human thirties or so. Tell me your problem."

"Faendal, I have just been thinking about my life a lot here lately." I admitted. I didn't really want to share,but I trusted Faendal. " I love being raised in a town where everyone knows everyone else. I am happy that I have never had to worry about money. My Da owning the mine and his military pension have paid for most things throughout most of my life. I have people like you and Alvor that have always been here. Alvor more for wisdom about life and you as someone to talk to. I had a great childhood running around with Ralof, Hadvar, Gerdur, and Roland. I know every inch of these hills and every tree in these woods. I know where the best fishing spots in the river are, I know where the perfect honey hole is to shoot the biggest deer. I am happy I grew up here, but that is the problem. I grew up. I feel like I have outgrown Riverwood."

"Well, Tell me how you feel that way. I have been to every province except for Argonia and Elsweyr, but I still feel like Riverwood is as close to Valenwood as I will get in this lifetime. I would like to hear your story though, but lets head out, okay?" With that we began the trek to the woods where we hoped we would be able to find a decent amount of meat for the village.

"Well Faendal, for one thing girls. There are no girls in this village. Well, none unmarried and my age. Camilla is closest,but I know you would fight all the guards of Solitude if she married another man." Sven would not do that for her. "I am not saying I am ready to settle down, I wouldn't even know where to start, but I am saying that I would at least need to branch out to find a woman."

Faendal just laughed. "Well maybe you could go with me to Whiterun on one of my trips, I know this merchant woman there who you would love, or if your prefer something not a Nord I know of a Redguard woman who is single."

"It's not just that Faendal. I want a better job than just a simple hunter in Riverwood, I want to be able to study more than just the books you bought me. I want to make an impact on the world. That is not possible here in Riverwood. I would always be the simple person destined for nothing if I stayed here." I finally let most of it all out. I knew I could trust Faendal.

"Does this have anything to do with your mother being gone? In all honesty, if your mother had have lived would you be saying this?" Faendal asked.

I knew he was trying to help but that just isn't a subject we talk about. My mother's death still hangs over my family eight years late. Da still goes out every morning and speaks to the headstone. He tells her our plans for the day, how he hopes to raise us, what he wants us to do with our life, and so on and so forth. He always finishes with telling her how much he loves her and that he is sorry he couldn't defend her.

Roland and I have never talked about it. Roland was always Da's favorite and I was always Ma's. He excelled in everything Da taught us. I was always better at reading and writing, speeches, and the other things she taught. As the best cook after her passing, I now mainly cook. I love to cook don't get me wrong. I love most of her recipes. I just hate cooking for us three men.

"I think I would be more willing to stay. Her dying left a hole in our hearts and a gap in our lives. I miss her everyday, but I think eventually I would still need to move on. I loved my mom, but I would still eventually grow out of this house out of this town. Ma would not let Da pull some of the stuff her has with Roland. We wouldn't have all the military training we have had. If Da would have just killed those men five minutes before she walked in. How was he some big fancy war hero but he couldn't even defend his family?" Okay, so maybe I blamed my Da a little bit.

"Uther that is a little unfair don't you think? You haven't experienced war yet, and I hope you never have to, but until you do I think you need to cut your father some slack. He has not spent his entire life working a mine, the very mine where his wife was murdered, providing for you, just for you to act like this. We need to go hunting now, this is something for you to think on while we hunt. Remember eyes on the prey, not the horizon." Faendal almost scolded me. I knew he is my fathers friend before he is mine, and I know that he is loyal to a fault. I should not have told him.

I went out into the woods hoping to kill the large buck I had been chasing for weeks. It was now rut season and all the bucks were all chasing does trying to find a mate. Great, a freaking deer can get laid but I can't. I wonder though, how I would feel right now if my mom were actually alive. If she had helped raise me these last few years.

I cleared my head and began to search for any deer sign. It would be a long boring day if I couldn't clear my mind.

After nearly an hour of tracking the deer I had my bow drawn and an arrow in place. I focused on the deer. Arrow aimed right behind the front shoulder, I drew back my breath. Breathe in , hold, release.

As I released the arrow a Bosmer came running through the woods screaming as loud as she could. The buck I had painstakingly stalked ran. I will never find that arrow. The Bosmer continued to run down the road. I stepped out of the brush where I had been hiding.

"What is going on?" I called after her.

She turned mid stride and saw me. She twisted her body in a most peculiar way and began to run toward me. As she got closer I actually began to notice her as if for the first time. She wore sack cloth hanging off of her body. She looked like a prisoner. She was beautiful beyond belief. Long, black hair cascaded midway down her back. Brown eyes staring at me as if I held her world on my shoulder. Her body seemed to be perfect. She was tall for a girl elf. Skinny, but not too skinny. I was amazed. Faendal will never believe this.

"Dragon." She gasped for air. Had she been running for long? She was dressed like a prisoner, but the closest prison was Helgen over two hours walk away. I knew the Wood Elves were agile people, but to run that long seemed insane. Maybe she came from one of the various prisoner wagons traveling around these days.

"Dragons? Seriously? What skooma are you on? I had the buck of a lifetime and you interrupted for this? You have got to be kidding me." I was not shouting but I was close. Yeah, Faendal will definitely love this.

"No seriously. A dragon destroyed Helgen. Ralof rescued me, but he was mauled by a bear while we were leaving. He sent me ahead to Riverwood to find help. He was in a cave under the keep." She looked devastated that I did not believe her, but seriously a criminal yelling about dragons in the middle of these woods.

"Okay head towards the water, in town you will see a smithy. There will be a man named Roggar there. Tell him Uther sent you. Tell him I said to give you some of my clothes and some food. Do not tell him anything about why you are like this, I will explain when you get back. Be careful though. My father fought in the War. He has issues with most elves." With that I whistled for Faendal. After the wolf attack that had scarred my face he had shown me the whistle of an eagle that lived in Valenwood. It was our signal to come as soon as he could.

"Where did you learn that whistle?" She inquired.

"The one elf my father does like." I replied. I handed her my hunting dagger and told her to go into town. I headed off in the direction of the Guardian Stones. I knew Faendal would be coming from that direction and it was on the way to Helgen.

As I neared the Stones Faendal came sprinting from up the path. His panic showed more than the sweet that drenched his body. I doubt he had been seriously out hunting. If he had there was no way he would have heard the whistle.

"What is going on? I heard the whistle and assumed you had been hurt." Panic was racking his eyes.

"Peace, my friend. I am not in trouble it is Ralof." I attempted to calm him.

"Nonsense Ralof is in Windhelm with Stormcloak. You know being all true Nord and all that." Faendal stated.

I then told him all about my encounter with the girl Wood Elf. I told him we were headed to Helgen to find Ralof. He did not even try to argue, he just calmly put the bow back on his back and began to walk.

After swapping between running and fast walking we had made decent time. As we neared the main Imperial military stronghold in Skyrim we could see the smoke rising up from the town. When we got closer we could see it was all a desolate ruin. Smoldered and charred bodies lay strewn across the once populous town. Imperial banners crisp and blackened still tried to sail in the wind. A tower had fell into the streets making an eerie barricade.

"Damn I honestly hoped she were a skooma addict." Faendal said. It was the only noise in the square. Imperial soldiers and Stormcloak militia all died the same, fire and talon had killed them all. We headed to the keep to find Ralof. We opened the doors of the keep only to smell death and its ilk inside. Bodies laying everywhere. Men killed not by the terrible creature of the sky that had plagued them outside, but by each other in this very room.

"Faendal, are men so stupid that we can not join together in times like these? Are we really so petty that even when our survival depends on unity and cooperation we still kill each other." As I spoke I stepped over a Stormcloak who had his axe buried into the head of an Imperial soldier. The Imperial had his gladius, the Legion term for short sword, sticking out of the Nords stomach. This all seems so stupid. We continued on through the castle hoping to find some minor clue about the Ralof's whereabouts.

We searched all through the innards of the keep looking for a sign of my childhood friend. We had crossed a room smelt of burnt oil and full of dead Imperials. We had carefully walked across a destroyed bridge. After searching we found the room full of caves. I was beginning to give up hope when Faendal turned to face me.

"The only way we are going to find him is to go farther. Let's push on," he said.

We ran down the length of the cave before we came to a large opening. Water rushed beside us causing us to hear nothing else.

"Always follow water. If you ever decide to dungeon dive, always follow the water. It leads out." Faendal advised.

A bear was laying dead at the end of the cave. No signs of Ralof. There was however a bear laying on the ground. It appeared to be dead but there was occasional movements. Upon approaching the bear we discovered it was dead and Ralof was underneath it. He was struggling to get out from underneath the dead bear. Faendal and I rolled the bear off. Ralof had been mauled by the bear, but when the bear tried to kill him he had sank his dagger into the bears throat.

I handed him a healing potion, hoping it would numb the pain long enough for us to get him back to Riverwood. Ralof thanked us for the help and asked about Aranwen. We told him how we had sent her on into town. When he was content and no longer in pain we helped him stand and begin the walk back to our home. It wasn't until two hours later when we were approaching the outskirts of town did I remember that Hadvar was on leave. He was back home staying with his uncle. I remembered when I saw him standing at the gates with sword drawn.

"Ralof. You damned traitor!" Hadvar screamed. Most people in town were already in their homes. It was not quite dark out yet, but it was nearing it.

"I am a traitor? You betrayed Talos! You betrayed Skyrim itself. Do not speak to me of betrayal." Ralof returned. He pulled the axe from his side. The two began to approach each other.

"We grew up together. We were best friends. You had my back and I had yours. What happened to that?" Ralof asked. The hurt obvious in his voice. There was apparently more to this than I knew.

"Why did you join the Stormcloaks? I thought we both wanted to serve Skyrim. Do what was best for the people." Hadvar asked. His reply was more sneer than sincere question.

"My cousin was taken in the night. Word came back to my family, it was the Thalmor. I can't support an Empire that allows this to happen to her people. I fell under Ulfric's banner." Ralof gave the answer. "Why did you join the Legion? You knew you would have to fight friends and family both."

"My father was a legionnaire, and his father before him. He died in the Great War. I never gave anything else any thought. I was always going to be a legionnaire." Hadvar replied.

When the two of them began to start the fight in earnest I tackled Hadvar.

"Stop it both of you!" I yelled. "We were friends for years and both of you are acting like idiots. Hadvar, a dragon destroyed Helgen. As in the Imperial stronghold, second most important Imperial outpost in Skyrim. Shouldn't you be reporting to Castle Dour about this? I'm sure Tulius Mede already knows, but he will need all hands on deck for this. You have your duty. Act like a soldier. Think like one. Ralof, return to Windhelm. Tomorrow both of you are leaving. Now both of you go home, maybe the next time you meet, it can be as friends."

The two of them looked angry that I hadn't let them kill each other at our childhood homes.

Faendal sneered, "Ever think of going into politics?

I walked into the door of my home. I had honestly spent all day away from home and it didn't bug me at all. Normally I begin to miss home about meal time but today I didn't miss it at all. I had spent all day making a difference in someone's life, and I had enjoyed myself. I had actually dreaded coming home. I had almost forgotten that Aranwen was in my home.

She was sitting at the table. She still wore her prisoner's clothes. She looked like she hadn't ate anything. I can only imagine what it would have been like to go through what she had. I didn't know her whole story but I knew that she had survived the horrors of Helgen.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" I asked. I knew it was a dumb question, but I felt the need to be there for her. I have no clue why.

"Well in one day I was captured for being a "rebel", I was almost killed by a dragon, and I am now staying in a strange Nordic home in Skyrim wearing burlap sacks cut to be clothes and I haven't ate anything in days."

"Well, I can help with two of those, I will give you some of my clothes until tomorrow, and I can cook. All I can do for everything else is listen to you talk about it." I offered. In truth, I am a decent cook, but my clothes would swallow her whole. "Are you part of the Green-Pact? If so I will fix you some deer or pheasant."

"No, I was raised in Cyrodiil. I am devout to the Eight, not the Bosmeri pantheon. Just fix me something. Anything." She smiled. She was obviously miserable.

"There is a tub in the room next to the bedroom, towels and stuff are in there. My clothes are in the bedroom on the right. When you are out I will have the food ready."

She just nodded and left.

When she returned I was stunned. I had never had the experience of seeing a girl I handed her a plate of fried deer with sweet onion slices. I poured her a cup of mead.

"I'm sorry, it's all we have. I promise I am not trying to get you drunk." I joked.

She giggled," Well I would hope you at least get to know me before you try anything like that."

"I swear by Talos, I won't try anything." I laughed. "You can stay here. You can take my room. Ill get the bear skin and sleep in the living room. I am only offering because I doubt you have the gold to pay for a room at the inn hidden somewhere. I am sure Lucan could use some help around the shop, or maybe the inn will need help."

All she did was smile.

I didn't realize that we wouldn't be waking up the next morning to Roland's snores. We would wake to mage fire and screams.

It was the middle of the night when we heard the first of the explosions. Faendal burst into the house. He was screaming for help from anyone. Da, Aranwen, and myself were the ones to come running. Faendal was covered in blood.

"Thalmor! The Thalmor are here. I was Penitus Occulatus. I left after I discovered betrayal by the company commander. Now they are here for me. They sent two Justicars into my home, then the mages started throwing fireballs everywhere. I don't think they are trying to kill us, I think it is just a scare tactic. The fire could catch into our homes though." Faendal was screaming. Roland came running in finally.

"Boys, grab your armor and weapons. We have some Elves to kill." Roggar commanded.

"Wait Da, we have the people to worry about. I have a plan." With a nod from the group I told them my plan. Faendal and Aranwen would sneak back to Faendal's home and take the armor off of the Justicars. They were to go house to house and search for the "Imperial spy." They were then going to escort them into the back entrance to the mine. Roland Da and myself would divert the attention of the Thalmor. I went and found my simple iron armor. It was light weight and strong. Thanks to the way the armor was forged it is considered heavy armor, but the way it covers my body and the way I was trained it serves as a light armor. Da came limping down the stairs in his old heavy Imperial Legionnaire armor. Roland came out of his room decked out in steel plate armor I had never seen before. I just looked at Da. Of course Roland gets fancy new armor.

"Faendal, when you find Ralof and Hadvar make them help escort the people out of town. Let's go."

Aranwen stopped me when I got to the door. She hugged me," Good luck you Nordic idiot. You still owe me a drink so don't die."

"Same to you, Little Elf." I smiled and headed out into the night.

I knew the Elven mages were throwing fire into the streets, but I did not know that mage fire was so bright. They night sky was lit like a new dawn. Black robes and shiny golden armor covered Riverwood. We didn't even make it to Alvor's smithy before a squad of five Justicars fell upon us. I released an arrow into a mages face. Roland charged into the foray with his steel war hammer swinging wildly. It seemed like he was swinging like a mad man, but in truth he was keeping the melee fighters away. I had to kill the other mage.

Da had taught us plenty about fighting the Elves. He had always thought that we would end up in another war with them. He having served under General Jonna and Legate Stormcloak his company had the best tactics for fighting the witch Elves. Justicar death squads traveled in groups of five. Two ranged fighters, usually mages, and three soldiers. When the three soldiers would attack, the mages would unleash Oblivion unto the opposition.

General Jonna was the leader of the Nordic Legions during the war. She had come up with the plans used during the Great War by her Legions. She had the most success during the war. When the Elven melee fighters would approach, hidden archers would take out the mages while a juggernaut fighter would hold the soldiers at bay.

My brother fit this category perfectly. In full steel plate swinging his war hammer in wide arcs the Elves could not even begin to get close. Every time one would try he would swing his hammer the other way and send them diving away. He would not kill the Elves unless necessary until after I killed the other mage. I had no idea where Da had snuck off to.

I squatted as I needed to present as small of a target as possible. Then I side stepped to the left, I would take no chance in hurting or worse killing my brother by mistake. I saw the Elf about to throw flame at Roland. Breathe in, draw back. Hold my breath. Release. I watched the arrow fly through the air, until it was buried in the Elven neck of the mage. Should have wore real armor. Stupid Mage.

Roland swung the hammer into the chest of the closest Elf. The golden metal shattered going everywhere. Lucan will be all over this if he makes it through tonight. The Elf was tossed back several feet. He lay clutching his chest and crying. His bowels released as soon as Roland's hammer had hit him. Roland never missed a step he took two steps closer to the Elves and swung his hammer again. This Elf was smarter. He raised his shield up to block the blow. His shield was shattered and he probably had a broken shield arm, but he could still fight. I had already put my bow over my shoulder and was approaching the other Elf with my short sword. He sliced down towards my head as if I were a melon to be cut in half.

I sidestepped his swing and returned with a horizontal cut across his breastplate. He may not be seriously wounded but he was definitely hurting. He tried to back swing his sword into me. I parried his sword away. I drove my blade up into his armor at the arm pit. I knew it would be weak there. The man crumpled. I turned to help Roland if needed, but he was bashing in the Elves brains as I turned. We both headed to Gerdur's mill trying to drawn in as many Elves as possible.

I ran up the ramp to the lumber saw. I pulled my bow off my back and began to loose arrows down at the Elves below me. Roland took to the open ground. I may think my brother dumb at times, but in all honesty his fighting knowledge is amazing. Da trained us well.

I saw an Elven mage throw fire at Sven's home. I realized that the Elves were now trying to burn down our village. I released an arrow. I didn't prepare, I did not think. I just pulled and shot. The arrow whizzed mere inches from the Elf's face. He turned to face me. As he did so a blade shot out of his stomach. Da just winked at me as he snuck back into the shadows. I turned to see Roland swarmed with soldiers. I grabbed an arrow from my bow and shot at one of the farther out Elves.

"Quit your pansy, Imperial arrow shooting. Get down here and fight like a Nord!" Roland screamed at me.

I hopped down from my perch and slammed my bow into the head of an Elf. He went down. I swung at the next one to me. He brought his blade to meet me as I braced the bow. I felt the blade go through my beloved bow. I turned the two pieces of my broken bow into stakes and stabbed them into his chest. I wonder how many Roland has killed.

Using my sword I began to hack and slash my way through the Elves not fighting against Roland. Soon we had narrowed it down to just two to Roland and one for myself.

My opponent swung his mace at my ribs. I rolled underneath him. As I came up I cut the backs of his knees. The bands in the Elves knees were sliced. He fell as he feel he began to beg for his life.

"Don't kill me please. I don't deserve to die."

This is rich. A Thalmor death squad member begging for his life. He was on a terror mission about to kill an entire village just to apprehend one man and he begs for his life.

I sunk my blade into the back of his neck. It was over quick. Roland had one on his knees begging. The other was laying dead on the ground. His leg was bent at an awkward angle and his helmet was crushed. I sure am glad Roland is on my side.

"Why are you here?" Roland asked. His voice gravelly and coarse. I had heard his battle cry throughout the night. His voice must be about finished.

"I will handle it brother. Save your voice." I told him. To the Elf," We know you are here for Faendal, but how did you think you could get away with torching a village?"

"I owe you nothing, Nordic dog! The Thalmor will prove Elven dominance."

"Seriously, you were begging him for your life now you are acting like this. Roland kill him" I told Roland. Roland began to swing his hammer back.

"No! No! No! We were going to plant rumors of a dragon attack. Helgen and Riverwood in the same night. No one would think anything about it. There would be no investigation. Just a clean up crew and people to rebuild the town. We did not expect to find Jonna's soldiers serving here."

"Thanks. Roland kill him." As I walked off I heard him scream.

It was over. The Thalmor were dead, or retreating. We had somehow saved Riverwood. Roland's armor was dented all over. He may have a few cracked ribs. I had some small cuts, but we would both live. I ran to the mine to tell the rest of the town that it was over.

I found Aranwen and Faendal outside the mine. Faendal's arm was bleeding terribly. Aranwen was doing her best to doctor him. I was immediately worried for him.

"What happened? Did the Thalmor figure you out? Is everyone safe?" I asked question after question.

"Relax, we are all okay. Ralof thought I was really a Thalmor. He stuck his axe into my arm. I think he would have killed me if not for Aranwen here. She dropped her hood as soon as she saw what had happened. When he saw her he calmed down immediately. I have been healing."

After that I rounded everyone up and began the walk back into town. Together we put out the remaining fires and made a list of everything that would need to be rebuilt. We made a mass grave for the Thalmor. We went through the entire town searching for the bodies of Elves. House to house, road to road.

I guess we should have known then. Everyone in town was safe, some minor injuries but safe. Everyone except for Da. The entire town searched for him, but eventually everyone returned to their own families. Roland and myself stayed up all night trying to find him.

"Guys, I think it is best I move on. I do not want the Thalmor coming back here for me. I do not want this to happen again." Faendal told us in the early hours of the next morning. He had everything on his back. He carried an Elven bow no doubt taken from some Justicar's dead body.

Roland grunted. I just nodded at Faendal. I wished he would stay, at least until we find Da. We needed him. Da needed him. Yet I knew he was right. If he stayed the entire town would be endangered. We both watched as Faendal walked away. We watched as our friend and mentor walked out of our lives.

"Roland, why don't I cook us some breakfast. Aranwen may need something as well." Again just a grunt from Roland. Aranwen had went back to our house once the night settled. She may need something by now.

I was sitting at the table eating with Aranwen when Alvor burst into the room. "Come quick. They have found him!" He was out of breath.

"Does he live?" I asked.

"For now, but we do not know for how long."

He was propped against a tree out in the wilderness. Several Thalmor arrows held him pinned to the wall. Every adult in town was gathered around. He was talking to Roland.

"Ah, Uther come close." He was coughing blood. An arrow had probably pierced one of his lungs.

"Yes, Da?" I hoped beyond hope the Gods would shine a blessing on us.

"You would call me that. Boy, I have to tell you something." He gasped for air. More blood.

"Anything Da." I replied.

"Quit calling me that dammit." At this I became incredibly confused. "I am not your real father. Your real father was worried about keeping you safe. He knew my wife was pregnant with Roland so when your mother gave birth to you he gave you to us."

I was truly unable to comprehend what he was telling me.

"You see boy, your blood is sacred. Your blood goes back to Ysgramor. You... are...a...Storm..."

He never finished his last sentence.


	2. Blood is Thicker Than Water

**Blood is Thicker Than Water**

I was speechless. I was stupefied. The man I called my father was dead. His last words were to tell me I was a bastard son. I was not even his son. I was a bastard of Stormcloak, an heir to Ysgramor. Yet, a bastard nonetheless. I knew my time in Riverwood was finished. I knew my time in Whiterun hold was through. I would travel to Windhelm and meet my father. My real father.

I needed to meet the man who would willingly give up his own son. I wanted to look him in the eyes and hear his story. I wanted to spit in his face in front of his entire court. I wanted him to understand what it was like to find out you don't know your real father.

I knew his own father had abandoned him to the Graybeards when he was just a boy. His older brother Elric was the heir. Well, I guessed my uncle was the heir. When the Elves attacked Elric was in the Imperial City. Once more a son of Ysgramor's blood was shed by Elvish blades. Ulfric came down from the Throat and immediately joined the war. His thu'um being the closest thing to Tiber Septim the Imperial military has ever seen. After he became a war hero his father declared him heir to the city, not much else he could do since Ulfric was his only surviving child.

So maybe he did understand abandonment. Maybe he just did not know how to be a father.

Regardless of Ulfric's reasoning I am going to Windhelm to meet him. I will decide if what he was for my benefit or his. I will judge this man to be the war hero the Nordic people say he is, or if he is the rebel scum the Imperials claim him to be. I will see how Ulfgar the Bear of Eastmarch had raised a son. I will decide if Ulfric Stormcloak is the god among men everyone reports him to be.

I went back to our house. Our house? It was never my house. It is Roggar's and Roland's. I guess it is all Roland's met me at the door. She had my spare clothes on. She apparently knew I was ready to leave.

"Think you are going without me?" She asked. I could tell I would never convince her to stay here.

I tried anyway. "The road is not safe for you. Windhelm is no place for an Elf. You saw how Ralof attacked Faendal."

She kissed my cheek. "Well I know the heir to the Jarlship. I trust him to make some changes."

I went to my room and changed into my armor. I packed an outfit of regular clothing and some gold. I put my personal effects into a backpack and rolled up a sleeping roll. I strapped it to the top of my bag. I then went to the kitchen and grabbed some food that would not spoil. I turned to head out the door with Aranwen at my side when Roland burst in.

"That's it. You're leaving? Just like that." He growled. I always believed him to be dumber than he really was but to growl at me. Maybe it was just the hurt.

"Roland, he was not my Da. This is not my duty. You were his favorite. Roland Shield-Bearer, you were his son truly. I never even lived up to you." I replied.

"Leave bastard. Blood runs thicker than water." Roland's hate was visible from his face to his body language. If I were anyone else he would have shoved his fist through my face.

Alvor stopped us right before we left town. He asked us to inform Jarl Balgruuf the Greater of the dragon attack and the raid on the town.

_What makes this man greater? Is he a shrewd politician? A brave warrior, A wise leader. Why is he greater? _

We walked through the gates of Riverwood. I was leaving my old life. One of comfort, one full of love and security. I was beginning a new life. I was starting something I was completely unsure of. I could die between here and Windhelm. I could die at any minute.

At least Aranwen is at my side. Gods know what I would do without her.

She was wearing clothing that didn't fit her. She was unarmed save for the dagger I had given her. She carried only a sleeping roll and a water skin. I would be her life and death while on this trip. I was not only supporting myself but her as well. I did not know what she saw in me, but she had enough faith in me to travel with me.

The White River flowed beside us. Waters from Lake Illnatia in Falkreath ran through Whiterun Hold all the way to the Dunmeth Pass and the Sea of Ghosts. I could follow this river all the way to Windhelm. _May the White take you._

We were beginning our descent down the mountain when I heard the first snarl. I knew immediately that wolves were upon us. I had been raised in the woods. I would always remember the sounds of the hungry predators.

"Ara, get behind me." I ordered as I drew out my sword. A wolf jumped. His teeth bared. Fangs stretched out. He would aim for my throat. I slashed my blade as he came up. It did not kill the animal, but he would think twice about trying that again. A different wolf was rounding around the corner of my vision. I turned and swung my short sword and caught it mid stride. My blade cut deep. I felt the metal connect with bone. The wolf was dead.

A third wolf was running at me. It was the alpha of the pack. It had sent in the other two wolves to try to weaken me. Wolves were not incredibly dangerous alone, but in numbers they could be potentially be deadly. I dispatched the alpha with a kick to stop is momentum and a down swing that nearly cleaved it's head in two. The wounded wolf was no where to be found.

After an hours march we began to see the outskirts of Whiterun. It lived up to it's reputation of being the financial capital of Skyrim. Caravans of merchants waited outside the city. Trading posts and small businesses lined the main road around the city. People were all jockeying to position themselves next in the guards line for admission.

Aranwen and myself both approached the gate, since we had no wagon we required no inspection. "Halt. City is closed with the dragons about." A guard ordered through a thick Nordic accent.

"Really, you will deny a citizen of Whiterun rest and respite, refuge from the dragons, and safety behind the walls." I asked sarcastically. I seriously was not in the mood for this._ If the man is so great why is he turning people away from his city. Is he low on food, guards, what is the deal? _

"We are here to see the Jarl on behalf of Riverwood. I survived Helgen," Aranwen told the guard. She chose a more diplomatic approach than I did.

"Yeah, like we would believe an Elf. Phft, next you are going to say he is Talos reborn." The guard laughed_. Later in life I would laugh at this guards statement. How little did we know at the time._

"Just let us through." I said. "Send a guard with us we just need to see Balgruuf."

"Fine, Tor go with them. Make sure they cause no trouble in our city. Take them to Dragonsreach." The guard ordered a younger man. He nodded his head and we followed him into the city. He toured us through the city. We passed the Plains District, up the stairs into the Cloud District. He pointed out the home of the Companions. He showed us the Temple of Kynareth. Finally he marched us into the palace of Whiterun.

While the outside of the palace certainly was a beautiful sight, the inside of the palace was a true wonder of Nordic architecture. I was amazed. I wonder how Ulfric's palace would live up to this.

"Who approaches the throne of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?" Came a very hateful tone. Accompanying the haughty tone was an equally haughty Dunmer woman.

"Irileth, these people come from Riverwood with news of dragons." Tor responded.

"Thank you Tor. Wait at the door. We will give you further orders if needed." She ordered. "You two, come with me. Jarl Balgruuf will want to hear of this."

We followed her without question. She could easily best us in a fight. If she was the sworn housecarl of a major hold Jarl she would have to be incredibly skilled with a blade.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" A blond Nord mountain sitting on a throne asked. His blond hair was tied back into a ponytail. His blue eyes were striking. His clothes were that of a noble of an Imperial court. Definitely_ a politician._

"Riverwood calls for help. A dragon destroyed Helgen. I survived." Aranwen said.

"And the Thalmor almost destroyed Riverwood. We need men sir. We need help." I pleaded.

His steward made some odd throaty noise. " Riverwood is a settlement of Falkreath Hold. If we move in men Jarl Siddgeir will consider it an act of war. Toryyg has not been High King but for a year. He is just a boy. He is not ready for a Civil War amongst his people."

"Send word to Falkreath. Tell him we are annexing Riverwood at the request of it's people. We can meet to discuss the details of this when the time is right for him." Jarl Balgruuf said.

"You can not just demand a settlement. Ulfric Stormcloak is becoming a popular leader and Torygg just inherited his father's throne. Istlod Gray-Wave was an amazing High King. He will be missed." Proventus admonished.

"I am Jarl of the most financially successful Hold in Skyrim. I will do as I please. If Siddgeir does not like what I am doing I am sure Logrof Law-Giver would appreciate the extra trade. Oblivion, it would turn Riften into a true major Hold." Jarl Balgruuf grinned. _Note to self, never piss this man off._

"Irileth, send a detachment of troops to Riverwood. I want good, loyal men." Proventus tried to interrupt him. "My word is law." The Jarl thundered.

Then he turned to us smiling, " You two have done my Hold a great service. I would like to reward you. For you young Elf, a bow from the palace armory and two hundred and fifty septims. You young man, I would like to see you in some better armor. I will pay for it."

"Thank you sir." I stammered. _Damn I wanted to keep my armor. I knew I would not be able to carry it from here to Windhelm while wearing armor._

"You may leave," He indicated for me to go. "But you Elf, I need your assistance. Something I think will suit your experiences very well."

"It's okay, Uther. I will catch up to you in Windhelm. Go meet your father." Aranwen smiled at me.

After resting for a few hours I set out to take the Old Road. The Old Road connected the old capital of Windhelm to the new capital Solitude. It was a safer road to travel on for a long trip. The short side roads of Skyrim would be swifter traveling, but far more dangerous. The Old Road ran right through the market stalls outside Whiterun city's walls.

I found a set of mail that fit me using the Jarl's money. It was not the most expensive armor

I could find but it was durable and light weight. I fight like a man who would use heavy armor, yet I want to move faster. I'm not Nordic berserker. Roland would want to be a moving fortress. I want armor that protects me but also lets me move. I want something I can use a bow with or a sword. The armor I bought was a typical mercenary styled armor. It was stereotypically found on the highwaymen who looted the lush plains of Whiterun. _Maybe me wearing this armor will keep them off my back. _I proceeded to sell my banded iron cuirass set for two hundred septims. After buying the set I used the remaining gold to buy me a new bow. I feel guilty now looking back on this purchase. I could have haggled the price down. Roggar had raised me to never buy something for anything more than what it is truly worth. Buying this bow would be the only time I ever ignored this teaching.

It was Bosmeri in design. It was a white ivory bone bow with golden trim. It's carrying string was a Cyrodillic fabric softer than the cotton we were used to. The string used to shoot the arrows was made from the fibers in a plant native to only Valenwood's deepest forests. I had to have it. Until I bought a home two years later the bow would be the most expensive item I had ever purchased. It cost more than any weapon I would ever buy. I spent most of my remaining gold to buy it and two quiver fulls of cheap iron arrows. I was left with around fifty septims and a week long trek in front of me.

"You, mercenary. Where are you headed?" An older Imperial man asked. I had not noticed him until he spoke. When he had first caught my attention it was as if he appeared out of nowhere. He had a curved Hammerfellian sword at his waist. He wore the battle dress of a foreign power. I was unsure of what faction he fought for.

"I am headed for Windhelm." _And I am not a mercenary, but I will see how this goes. _

"Good, I have an audience there with the Jarl's steward in two weeks. I would like an extra set of eyes and an extra blade for the trip. I'll pay you two hundred drakes from Morrowind. You can exchange them in the Snow Quarter of Windhelm." He looked at me.

I had no clue what the exchange rate would be from drakes to septims, but I would definitely take any payment for making the same trip to Windhelm that I was already going to take. All I had to do was watch this old guy's back as we made the trip. "When would you like to leave?"

"I want to leave now. Also, my money is at the East Empire Company in Windhelm so you will get nothing if I do not make it their alive. Understand?"

"Let's go."

When we were approaching the end of the city proper I saw the guards gathered around a group of men in some strange armor with a dog. The dog also had strange armor.

"We are here because their have been reports of a necromancer in the hills east of here. We caught word of Necros using the Ritual Stone to raise the dead. We knew that you would have to raise a special force to root them out, but we are offering our services. This is our specialty, we do not ask for payment. We just ask permission to act and for sanctuary in your temple after the mission." An Orcish man grunted. He seemed to be the leader. The "Dawnguard was a squad of six consisting of the Orc, two male Imperials who looked to be brothers, a Nordic archer, and a female Bosmeri archer, and the armored dog.

"I will report this to the commander, but act before the mages attack the city." The superior officer of the Whiterun guards said. He held the Nordic ideal that mages were all bad.

"We are going to work with these Dawnguards people. We are crossing the same territory. Eight arms are better than two. I'll add one hundred drakes to your pay." The Imperial who was paying me informed me. _He still has not told me his name._

"Excuse me, Dawnguard. My name is Captain Gamli, myself and my bodyguard are traveling to Windhelm. We overheard your conversation and are willing to offer our own swords to your mission. Eight warriors are stronger than two, and stronger than six." The Imperial grouch interrupted the guards.

"We don't need them. Let them travel alone." One of the brother's said.

"Polnus be quite. It's Mogrul's call as squad leader." His brother snapped at him.

The Orc grinned. "We welcome you on the task. We are headed there now. It's two hours until night fall. After night fall black magic is stronger. Let's go."

We set off at a fast pace. We were not sprinting, but we maintained a pace for everyone to be moving fast while still wearing armor. The Dawnguard all appeared to be seasoned warriors, but the biggest surprise was the Captain. He appeared to be in his sixties but could outrun most of us younger fighters. I did not know who he served with, but I know they train their people right.

We made it almost there when we saw our first skeletons. A Vigilant of Stendarr was surrounded by the undead and we could tell he was soon going to die. I released an arrow and watched it sail through the air and take the leading skeleton through the neck. The Dawnguard archers released their shots as well. The Bosmer's hit a skeleton in the skull, and the Nords arrow was stuck in the ribcage. _Two down, one hit, and three more to go._ The Orc's war axe split one skeleton in two and Captain Gamli's sword brought two more skeletons in mere seconds. One of the brothers threw a dagger and finished off the last skeleton. The other was a battle mage and begin weaving spells to heal the Vigilant.

"Vigilant report." Mogrul barked.

"The Beacon received reports of the Necromantic activity. We had a four person squad sent here. I am the only person still breathing."

"Polnus, heal him as best as you can. Beleval and Ollrod scout ahead and get a advanced report. Cassius take stock and figure out what we have currently. I will try to plan ahead. Captain you and your man may do as yo please. Vigil, at Honningbrew Meadery the Whiterun guards have set up an outpost. A man there will escort you to the temple for healing. Tell them we sent you. Dismissed."

Everyone left to do their own objective's. I just turned to look at Captain Gamli.

"So, boy. Tell me about yourself. How do you own a bow like that. I remember seeing some used by High Elven Lords during the War. You are young but move like an experienced veteran. You shoot like you were trained by the Legion. You just do not have the appearance of someone who has seen war."

"Well, I am twenty. I was trained by the Legion. The man who raised me was a Legionnaire who was a lieutenant to Ulfric Stormcloak during the war. He taught me to fight with a blade and to move in armor. His closest friend Faendal taught me to shoot my bow." When I mentioned Faendal the Captain's face changed for a brief second.

"How did you get the bow?" He asked again.

"I did some odd jobs. I raised up money. I sold my old set of armor." I told him.

"Hmm. There is more to you than I think you are willing to tell. I have served many years, I know when someone is hiding something. Uther, I would like to hear more of you.

Before our conversation could continue, Morgul approached us. "The Ritual Stone is at the top of that hill. We are going to swing around it and come up it from the base. It provides ample cover for our ranged units, and it has open spaces for the melee attackers. Polnus is going to remain at the beck end of the formation to cast any healing spells we may need and to draw their ranged attackers out. His mages armor will cover him from any arrows. They can't use silver and that is the only thing that would affect him if he stays concentrated. It is one hour until sun down so let's get going.

After we had stealthily circumvented the stone, we began a slow approach. I and the other archers were silently taking out any out lying enemies. Gamli and Cassius were blades in the dark. Silently killing any foe who was to knotted up for us to kill. They would motion and we would take out all of a group that they did not kill.

We made it to the main ring with the Stone in the center. An Imperial man stepped out from behind the Stone laughing. He shot beams of light out of his hands and the Stone began to glow a blue other worldly tint. Skeletons began to climb out of the ground, foes we had already re-killed began to reassemble. The three dead Vigilants all stood and drew their weapons. You could hear the skin sizzle where the undead flesh touched silver. I released an arrow and watched it sail through the air. It flew way to close to Ollrod's head and struck the mage in the chest. He began to glow blue as he took off running. _Draw, Focus, Release._ The arrow took the dark magician in the back of the skull sending him flying off of the cliff they fought upon.

Yet the undead fought on.

"They should have fallen. When you kill the spell caster the spell breaks." Mogrul shouted.

"We did not kill the spell caster. No one can kill a Stone. We only killed the activator." Captain Gamli yelled back.

So we fought on. Everyone of us was growing tired. Beleval had ran out of arrows and mixed swinging her bow like a club with stabbing with an Elven dagger. Ollrod was swinging his war axe wildly. You could see the worry in his eyes. Polnus was casting damaging spells trying to sever the flow of undead. The fighting was intense, but no one was panicking just yet.

Captain Gamli and myself were taking on one of the Vigilants when we heard a cry. One of the other undead Vigilants had his blade shoved through Mogrul's chest. Captain Gamli swore loudly as he kicked the Vigilant we were fighting. As soon as it's knees buckled I took it's head off. Cassius ran through the crowd of skeletons. He rolled under the blade of the Vigilant who had killed Mogrul and sliced up in between it's ribs. He then muttered a spell that burst the body into a ball of flame.

Soon after Cassius's kill the battle was over. We easily killed the last of the skeletons and swarmed the remaining reanimated Vigilant. Cassius thanked us for our assistance then rounded up the squad. They rigged a sled for Mogrul's body and left.

"We have a little bit of time before nightfall. I am not native to this area so I will ask your opinion. Where is the best place to camp?" Captain Gamli turned to me.

"There is a tower set up down this hill. The Jarl had it built to act as a shelter for traveler's but bandits take it as their own often times. We may have to fight for it, but if we can take it we will have a very defensible position." I replied. I had only been through this area once. It was shortly after Jarl Balgruuf's father had the place cleared out. I was only a little boy.

"Lead on."

I soon found out that drakes were the same as Septims. The old prick had decided not to share that information with me. He knew if I did not know the transfer rate then I would stay with him until we made it to the East Empire Company. I accepted my pay and left the old man to discuss things with the factor of the company.

No longer employed by Gamli, I set out for the Palace built by Ysgramor. The blood of the Stormcloak Clan could be traced back through the Eras to Ysgramor. The Stormcloak line descends from the second son of Ysgramor's second son. While the heirs ruled Skyrim, the Stormcloaks were the Storm Kings of the East. The true line was cut off and the High Kingship of Skyrim was decided by Moot.

I entered the court for the first time in my life. I would walk into this hall many times in my life, but I would never ever understand the thought process of the sycophants and lick-spittles. Men who served with true Nordic honor in the Great War now curried favor from Ulfric Stormcloak. The table had been stocked full of food. The hall was decorated with Stormcloak blue banners and rugs. A large shield with a bear painted on it hung above the throne. Two Nordic great swords were crossed behind the shield. This was a true Nordic throne room.

I approached the throne and bowed to one knee before the throne.

"Who is this highwayman who kneels before me?" Ulfric asked. His voice boomed. The men and women gathered around the court all laughed.

"Well M'Lord, you may not know me but you knew my mother twenty years ago." I knew it was not the way to go about doing this, but here is the man who abandoned me to a false life. Here was the man who left my mother on a battlefield. He would earn my respect, no title would hold back my tongue. The crowd roared with laughter, guards came around as if I had physically struck him.

"Peace, guards, peace. Young man rise." I stood. "Are you saying you are a bastard son of mine? From during the war?" I shook my head to both questions. People laughed with each answer. "Do you understand what you say?" Again a yes. Ulfric laughed a harsh laugh. "Get out of here you fool. I have no heir." Ulfric proclaimed. I stood in shock. First he abandoned me, now he denies me.

I left the Palace to find a place to sleep that night. I searched all through the city. The guards who were in the palace were staying at the Candlehearth, and the Dunmer turned me away from their establishment. I was wondering through the streets when a little boy ran up to me and began to shake my pants. "Mister, Mister, I heard you were going through town looking for a place to sleep tonight. You can stay with me tonight." He almost screamed. They boy looked as if he had not ate a decent meal in weeks. He looked deathly pale. _Where is this kid's mother?_ _I will be there for him._ _It is wrong for a child to have no one._

"Okay, where is your mother? What does she say about you having a stranger over?" I asked.

"My mother is dead. It is just me. I just have my old bed and mom's. I'll take you to my house. Name's Aventus." The boy smiled. We started walking to his house. As we approached his home, several guards began to walk up to us. The group split up revealing Ulfric and Galmar standing there.

"Boy, may I use your home to speak with Uther here?" The Jarl asked the young boy. The boy grinned. _I wonder if he has ever seen the Jarl before. Does my father ever make it to this part of the city? Aventus looks like he has never been so happy._

"Y...y...yyyees sir. I will fix something to eat. You can have the living room." Aventus stuttered the words out.

We sat down in a depressing alcove in the Aretino residence. The room was very poorly lit, the lights that were still lit all were very low to the ground. The room itself was a mess. A cooking pot was held above a fire. The boy started dumping pieces of salted fish into the water. _No wonder he is starving if that is his meal. _

_"_Uther, you look too much like me for me to properly deny you. You look exactly as I did when I left the Graybeards The only difference is that you have your mother's hair. If I were a thane or even still the heir I could claim you. I am the Jarl of the second strongest Hold in Skyrim. Boy, I could have claimed you years ago." Ulfric smiled at me.

"That is a lie." I spat. "You sent me away with Roggar. You knew I was alive. You hadn't taken the throne yet. You could have brought me up as your son. Instead I have lived my life as a lie. I thought a man to be my father until his death. Everything I knew was untrue. Ulfric,do not lie to me."

Ulfric grimaced and Galmar made a move to grab me. "Peace, old friend. Uther, I have no heir. The Thalmor have left me unable. They used potions on me that set in later in my life. The seed I had sown in my younger years are the only seed that have actually taken root. I am infertile. Being so I have never married. Your mother was a shield maiden who died after giving birth. The only other woman I cared for left me for an inn-keep. You think I left you? You needed to grow up safe. The Thalmor would have kidnapped you then indoctrinated you to be their puppet. I had someone I trusted to protect you and raise you as he would his own son. Listen, you make a name for yourself and I will claim you as my son. There is a spot on the guard for you. Report tomorrow to Jorleif he will assign you somewhere. See you around." With a heavy sigh Ulfric left Galmar following after him.

"So you are Jarl Ulfric's son?" Aventus screamed. He pestered me with questions about Ulfric for the rest of the night. I found out Aventus had never knew his father. Ulfric had the grace to set me up with a father who would love me, but Aventus was left without a parent at the age of ten. He had been sent off to the Orphanage. A year later Aventus returned to Windhelm in order to somehow save his friends. I listened to the boy talk for hours. Eventually the kid fell asleep and I carried him to the bed. I would sleep soon.

Tomorrow would be a long day.


	3. The Changing of the Guard

The Changing of the Guard

I entered the palace and headed straight for the steward. I sent up a prayer to the Nine that no one would recognize me as the redneck that was thrown out yesterday. I walked by an aged man wearing armor that looked half useful and half crazy Nordic propaganda.

"Hey, boy. Come here." He ordered me.

"Yes sir?" I asked. _Crap, I was almost to Jorleif. I had almost made it. Crap, Crap, Crap. I don't know this man. I sincerely hope that he just wants to talk._

"You are his son. I can tell by looking at you. I served with Ulfric. I never made it to Legate. I was a Tribune under Ulfric. I knew your mother. Great woman. We were all jealous of Ulfric. Terrible shame what happened to her. We thought they had got you also. So proud to see you still alive. You are that man's shadow I can tell you that. I couldn't believe he threw you out yesterday." The older Nord said. His eyes were incredibly sad.

"Excuse me sir? Who are you? How did you know my mother?" _Ulfric be damned. I want to know about the woman who gave birth to me. I want to know about her relationship with Ulfric._

"I am Brunwulf Free-Winter and she was my daughter. I am your grandfather,boy. It hurt me terribly to see him deny you like that. His father named me as a thane before the war. I am one of the few remaining thanes of this Hold." He smiled. I could tell I had this man's dark hair. It made me truly joyful to realize I had family alive that claimed me.

"I would love to hear more from you. I truly would sir, but I have to report to Ulfric's steward for guard duty. I need the Septims." I bid him a farewell. He promised to meet me in the Inn after I finished my shift.

"Ah, the bastard." Jorleif sighed. "Ulfric told me you would be a new part of the city guard. Report to the barracks for your equipment, then I want you to head to the Gray Quarter. The Dunmer are rioting. We need more guards over there to calm them down."

I merely nodded my head and set out for the barracks. The barracks in Windhelm are below the palace itself. It is known as the Bloodworks. The beds are in a large common room with weapon racks around the walls and chests for personal belongings in front of each bed. The jail cells are in a smaller room on the other side of the common room. A table in the room had the armor of the Windhelm guards. I stripped out of my clothing and donned the apparel of the guards. I put my weapons where they went respectively on my body and headed to the Aretino residence. There I dropped off my equipment and left a note for Aventus about where I would be during the day. _I hope the boy can read. If not I hope I can see him around and tell him. _

In the quiet of the Gray Quarter I found the supposed "riot" Jorleif had sent more guards to handle. Rolf Stone-Fist and his friends were walking through the streets shouting at the Dunmer. Cruel, crude and racist remarks were being tossed back and forth. Most of the Dunmer were simply ignoring the Nordic men. Yet, one man was yelling back. Rolf walked up to him and decked him. Just a clear cold cock swing to the side of the head. The man fell back to the ground. The Nordic men began to laugh and walk towards their fallen opponent. He kicked up at Rolf then rolled over onto his feet. I sprinted in the middle of the group and did my best to stop everything from happening. Sword drawn I approached the Nordic mob.

"Halt, in the name of Jarl Ulfric Stromcloak I command you to stop this assault." I commanded these idiotic men. _Nords bad mouth the Thalmor for their racism and supremacist values, yet some do the same thing to other races. How ironic is it that we can't fix our own city, but we are trying to fix the entire province. _

Rolf just laughed at me and swung into the man's stomach again. I called for help and several other guards came running.

"I will say this differently. You are under arrest against Skyrim and her people. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" With guards around surely nothing would be done to stop this arrest.

"I say this gray skin attacked me, and my friends came running to my defense. Now you are trying to arrest me? What in the name of Talos is a Windhelm Guard doing arresting me, the brother of Galmar Stone-Fist?" Rolf was shouting.

"I am a defender of all of Windhelm's citizens, not just the ones who believe themselves to be better than other due to the last name they inherit." I replied.

"Are you not the boy who claimed to be the son of Ulfric?" Rolf laughed. His posse joined him.

The Dunmer spit at my feet. " Damn the Stormcloaks. Damn any Nord hypocrite."

The guards began to clamp irons on the Dunmer's hands. I started to clamp them on Rolf's when one of the guards stopped me. He pulled me aside.

"We do not arrest Rolf and his men. They are a voice of the people. Galmar would have our heads if we tried." The guard told me.

"But he started the fight." I pleaded. I knew this was not right. The Dunmer had retaliated sure, but Rolf had come here asking for a fight. I could not sit by while this injustice was done.

"Do you know who that Mer is?" The guard asked and I nodded a negative reply. " That is Atvir Dres. He is a Prince of House Dres. They are slavers and scum. His family alone caused the invasion of Morrowind and the refugees that are now in Skyrim. He deserves this arrest. Now stand aside."

"I am sorry, I will do my best to get you out of jail." I told the Dunmer man. His only reply was to spit at my feet again. _If this is how the non Nord citizens are treated I will not be a guard. I am not guarding the people who need it. I am guarding the racist pricks from the wrath they have incurred. _

Returning to my old gear I quickly swapped everything back out and threw my note to Aventus in the garbage. I had wrote the note around ten this morning and it was now four in the afternoon. I hoped he had stayed too busy to read it.

Back in the Palace of Kings my father was sitting on his throne. He looked bored. Galmar and another man were standing in front of him arguing. Galmar was saying that they needed to call their banners and make it official. The other man was begging Ulfric to wait until "they" showed a sign of weakness. Ulfric turned to Jorleif without speaking he just nodded his head.

"Sir, I agree with Thrice-Pierced. We need to wait. Open defiance now will be dangerous. Helgen was bad enough. We are already being watched."

Ulfric looked over the men and saw me. He smiled, " Men, we will discuss this in the map room later. I have someone here. You are dismissed."

I approached him as the other men left the room. I knew my fury was evident on my face. I was far past mad. His smile and charisma would not abate my anger this time.

"What is wrong, Uther? You seem angry?" He asked. _I seem angry? This man is a fool. No wonder his city is in such a state of disrepair. _

"I am more than angry. I watched the man I thought was my father die from the blade of the Thalmor. With his last breath he tells me that the last twenty years of my life are a lie. You are my father, and I travel all the way from Riverwood to meet you. Upon meeting you, you have me thrown out of your court as a laughing stock. Then you have the balls to come to the only place I can find a place to sleep and offer me your name if I make my own name for myself. You bastard, the job you have given me is not one of justice. I saw a man get thrown in jail today because he was defending himself from Rolf Stone-Fist. I tried to arrest Rolf and was told I could not. What in the planes of Oblivion is that? Ulfric you are looking outside your walls at things that are happening in your own city. You may be an excellent war leader, but you are a terrible Jarl. I am through with you. Now that we are through here, I have a thane to go talk about my mother with." I threw down his armor at his feet and stomped off.

Before I made it to the door, I heard Ulfric shout behind me, "You have my temper! You may have your mother's stubborn streak,but dammit you have my temper!" With that I threw open the doors and went out into the cold, bitter city air.

Brunwulf was sitting with the proprietor of the inn. I am fairly certain I overheard him talking about warming her bed, but that was not a thought I wanted to have about two older people. I really did not want to have those thoughts about my grandfather and some old lady. He stopped when he turned to look at me.

"I didn't figure you would be here this early? Something happen?" He asked. I told him the whole story. I told the old man my enitre life story up to this point. _Years down the road when I would tell me own kids this story they will never understand how sad I was to have had no one. I will be there for them every step of the way. _

Hours had passed. People had came and went. We talked all through the night. He had told me all of my real mother. Braste Free-Winter, his only child. She was raised with Ulfric Stormcloak. They had been childhood friends until the day the Bear had sent Ulfric to High Hrothgar. She grew up to become a shield-maiden, but then the War started and Ulfric returned from the mountain. She went off to war and they fell in love. During the Incident at Markarth she gave birth to their son and everyone assumed a trip to the Temple of Mara would be happening. Then Braste disappeared in the night along with their child. Ulfric blamed the Elves and it fueled his hatred of the Elves. He had been captured and tortured previously during the War.

Brunwulf was overjoyed to learn of my existence. He was furious with Ulfric for sendind me away as a child to live with Roggar. They had known each other, but still Brunwulf was actual family.

I asked Brunwulf about the Stormcloak militia. I knew of it's existence because I knew Ralof, but I wandered what the people of the city knew.

"Ssshhh...Let's head back to the Aretino boy's place so we can discuss this in private. Goodnight Elda, I hope to see you later."

After I sat down in the main room I realized Aventus was in the bed asleep but it looked like he had cried himself to sleep. _I really need to speak with him tomorrow. Since my clothes were gone and I had no note left he must have thought I left him. I will not leave this boy. _

_"_Be quiet. Aventus is asleep in the next room over." I told Brunwulf. I could not wait to speak to the child, but I did not want to wake him.

"Okay, but here is the deal. Ulfric is planning a rebellion. I know talk of his resistance is spreading. He has reformed the militia that was under his command during the War. They formally disbanded after Markarth, but most of his soldiers joined the city guard. Now they are recruiting again. Just Eastern Skyrim though, where Whiterun Hold and Eastmarch meet is the border of his conrtol. Falkreath is almost his. Jarl Dengeir is a supporter of his but is wary of declaring war on the Empire. Jarl Skald will follow Ulfric from Dawnstar. That is his border. He is making plans, but he is waiting on just the right thing. I do not believe he would declare open rebellion unless he has been provoked. Gods save us if he has been provoked"

"I have seen them. The militia. A man I grew up with joined them. He told us stories when he came back to Riverwood on leave." I then told him of Helgen and all we had seen there. The battle between the Stormcloaks and Imperials and the dragon.

"A dragon? Talos save us." He breathed. I was worried he would not believe me. " Does Ulfric know you have seen Helgen?" I nodded no.

"Good keep it that way. I do have something to discuss with you." Brunwold told me.

Curiosity had always gotten the better of me so I waited on him to further elaborate.

"When your mother died I was left without an heir. I can't declare you my missing grandchild and name you heir. Clan Free-Winter must go on however, so I propose you become someone the people love. If the people adore you then they will beg me to become your patron and name you heir. Maybe in doing so, Ulfric will open his blind eyes to you. Imagine being the heir to both Clan Free-Winter and Clan Stormcloak. Boy, you are quite unique. Come see me tomorrow and we will find a way for you to be a favorite of the people." With that Brunwulf left me.

After the day I had I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning I woke with Aventus shaking me very very roughly. The kid would be close to twelve by now and had no clue how his body was changing. _If only I can keep him well fed._

"What is it Aventus?" I finally managed to say. I did not mean to sound rude, but really why was the kid shaking me.

"You came back! You came back! I thought you had left me for good! I thought I was alone again!" The boy was beyond excited.

"Aventus I would never leave you to be alone. Calm down now. Have you ate yet?" I finally got the growing boy to quit shaking me. He told me he had not ate and I told him to wait for me to get on some clothes and we would go get food.

We walked to my grandfather's door. Humorously enough he was a neighbor to Aventus. When we knocked on the door Brunwulf opened already wearing that ridiculous armor of his.

"Welcome Uther. I did not expect you to bring company, I would have had some sweet rolls delivered." Brunwulf smiled. He seemed to enjoy Aventus being around.

"Well we haven't ate yet so if you have anything to break our fast with that would be wonderful." I grinned at the older man. He smiled back and had us come inside. We ate more that day than I think Aventus has ever eaten in his life.

"Aventus why don't you go play with the other kids?" I asked him. He just smiled and left. "Now then about this plan of yours. To get the people's support what must I do?"

The older man looked at me with a gleam in his eye. _He told me something that I would use for the rest of my life. Something my father could have won a crown with. _"To gain the support of the people you must win their love. They may fear you, but when an opposing army comes knocking at their door they will turn on you. If they respect you then they will support you until you mess up. Yet, if they love you then people will support you no matter what you do."

"Well how do I win their love?" I had no clue how to win the love of the people of Windhelm. I could have all of Riverwood loving me if I had a good hunt that day. Windhelm was a whole new story. It was a city hundreds if not thousands of inhabitants. I could befriend a small few, but not many.

"I have four tasks. One is to help the Argonians, one is to help the Dunmer, one for the Nords, and one to help your father. Help the Argonians with their work. They get paid a measly sum for difficult work, and they have very little work. Let them know any willing to work will be paid by me. We need to fix this city up proper. I want the Assemblage looking spit and span. I want the outside of the city looking better. Tell them if they can help catch fish to be salted and stored then we will pay. I will even speak to Ulfric about them being allowed to sleep in a house. They are lizards and therefore coldblooded. Ulfric had them quarantined to the docks. They could use one of the storehouses. Get Atvir Dres out of jail. He is a leader among the Dunmer. It is a spit to the face of their people to have him in jail for Rolf's idiocy. Some bandits are raiding around the Hold, and they have a gambling den set up halfway to Riften. The people want the den gone. It makes the people of Eastmarch look bad to have a wolf pit set up in our hold. Lastly pirates are prowling our coast. They are calling themselves the Blood Horkers. Clan Shatter-Shield is paying them off so their ships make it through, but the East Empire Company has sat on it's ass. They are sending in a company superior to fix everything. I want you to help whoever it is however they need. If you can do that I can plant the seeds of everything for you. Keep me updated as you complete these tasks." With that the older man left me sitting in his own home.

I decided to complete the tasks in order given so I headed to the docks to speak with the Argonians there. I have never spoken to an Argonian before much less helped one out.

I approached one of the lizard men at the docks and asked who their leader was. He pointed to a n Argonian unloading a ship for the Cruel Sea Company. So I walked to the man. I handed him five Septims just to stop working and speak to me.

"Need something?" He asked me.

"I am here to help your people. Brunwulf Free-Winter if offering to pay your people for work. He wants the docks cleaned maintained. The broken docks fixed. The bridge at the front needs to be maintained. Also, we need to stockpile food. If your people will catch fish to be salted, he will pay you. He is on his way to speak with Ulfric about your kind possibly using some of the old abandoned storehouses as homes. We never use them. Anything else I can do to help?"

"Torbjorn Shatter-Shield. I wish someone would beat the coin out of his fat fists. He clings to every Septim. He says an Argonian's labor is only worth a tenth of a 'proper Nord worker.' My people are not slaves!" The lizard spit. "About your offer Nord, I will talk to my people. I will let you know when you return."

I walked all through the city trying to find this man who can put down an entire race of people for profit. I instead found a man grieving the loss of a daughter. _This is what being a father is about. Loving your children. Mourning their loss is an unfortunate turn of events, but it shows he truly loves what the Divines sent him_. "Torbjorn Shatter-Shield?" I asked the man.

"Please forgive my mood. I'm still coming to terms with my daughter's death." He looked at me. His eyes were full of mourning. I hated to do this to the man. "What do you need?" He asked.

"Sir. I come to ask that you increase the wages of the Argonians working for you." I saw no point in drawing this out. The man needed a shoulder to cry on then so be it I would help him, but first I had my own duty to do.

"Those boots aren't worth the Septims I do pay them. I'm not giving them the coin I would give to good, Nordic workers." He angrily replied to me. This was apparently a sore issue.

"If you pay them more they will work harder. Just think of they added benefit to a shipping company if it's employees can breathe underwater." I tried my best. I hoped I had inherited Ulfric's silver tongue.

"Bold words, but true words. Fine, I will pay the boots more if they work harder. Understand? No work no pay." He said it as if it were an order and I an employee. No wonder the beast kin hate this man. He seemed to be a Nord through and through, but more of the racist Nords. Windhelm seemed to be full of them. No wonder my father was raising an army of like minded bigots.

_Speaking of my father. He is next on my list. I can speak to him about the Argonians and Atvir at the same time. Maybe I will throw in some mention of the rebel bodies I found at Helgen he will listen. _

I approached the throne. Ulfric was sitting there with a near empty room. Jorleif was in the corner standing alone and two guards stood in the room. Ulfric almost smiled as I walked up to the throne.

"So you are back? Temper subside long enough to not be a stubborn ass?" Ulfric commented.

"Nay, I am too much of my father's son to not be an ass. Actually I just came to talk to you. As a citizen of this city speaking to it's Jarl. I ask for the unused storehouses at the Assemblage be used."

"What would you have them be used for?" Ulfric mocked.

"Well Brunwulf and I are rallying the town. We understand that a rebel militia is stirring up a resistance against the Empire. We are storing food and supplies. The unused storehouses can be put to good use." I answered. I was angry but I would remain calm.

"How do you know anything about the militia? I want to hear it from you. And I want to know what is in it for your and the old man? He has been throwing his weight against any thing helpful to me for twenty years." Ulfric the man who inspired a rebellion seemed to be asking these questions aloud.

"We want some of the storehouses to be used by the Argonians. They are dying in the night because you make them sleep under the open air by the river. A river that flows into the Sea of Ghosts." I answered one of his questions.

"Well what about your information. Where did you get it?" He repeated. Something about the way he said this one made the room shake. He seemed angrier, but how could his voice alone shake the room?

"I will tell you what I know on one condition. Release Atvir Dres. Release him and I will tell you how your "secret" is being revealed to everyone." I smiled. I knew I had him. _I definitely have this man's persuasive skills._

Ulfric looked like he had swallowed something that made him ill. He hated the thought of released a Dunmer prince, but he conceded. After the guards went to release him, I began to tell him what we knew. To his credit Ulfric sat patiently as I told him about my experience at Helgen, and how I had pieced together what I knew from Ralof and the conversation I had overheard the day before. "And lastly Ulfric, if you plan on having a war you might want to get the people of your city with you instead of against you. An entire district of your city is held by the Dunmer. The Argonians control the shipping. If they go on strike the city will shut down and starve. Until Captain Aldis killed the serial killer you had many Nords against you. You still do with the pirates and the wolf pit still open. I tell you though. You give us your support, we will make the city love you. You run your little war, just allow us to fix your city."

Ulfric smiled. One less problem to worry over. One more opportunity to focus on the coming war. "Have your way. Fail my city and I will have you thrown out."

"Don't worry father. I already know how you could abandon me." I said as I walked out. I never saw the look of anguish on the man's face.

Atvir was standing by the front gates. His arms were bound by ropes tied behind his back. He looked incredibly pissy.

"Atvir, I hope you remember me. I am escorting you to the Corner Club." I informed the Dunmerish prince.

He spit at me feet again._ Seriously, can you do nothing else?_ I stopped him. "Look prick, I did not have to get you out of there. I did. I am trying to help you and your people. Can you be the leader you were meant to be or not? I know you have went through trials, but by the Gods can you not recognize when a good thing happens?"

"What do you know of hard times, Nord? I come from Tear the capital of House Dres. I was there when the city was ransacked by baby eating lizard men. My family fled all through out Morrowind fleeing those scaly bastards and I ended up here. Here I am treated almost as bad as the fetchers who killed my family. I watched my people burn and now I am imprisoned here for a Nords crime? I spit at your feet because you think yourself to be helping the situation when you have done no such thing. Rolf Stone-Fist and his hypocritical lackeys will raid the Gray Quarter tonight because you released me. My people will die because you could not keep me in jail." He sneered. Centuries of hate and anger were being released at me.

"Let me handle Rolf. Just gather your leaders in one building tonight. Brunwulf Free-Winter has a message for the Dunmer people." We set out on a silent march to the Gray Quarter. When we arrived at the New Gnises Corner Club I cut his bonds and watched him go. I turned and began my search for Rolf Stone-Fist.

He was in the Stone Quarter with one of his men. They were harassing a Dark Elven woman about her people being spies.

"Rolf we are not yet at war. Why bother the nice lady?" I asked. I really just needed her to be able to return to her home. I nodded at her for her to leave but Rolf's lackey just grabbed her arm.

"What do you want, bastard? Come here to try to make an arrest or did your daddy already throw you out of a uniform?" He mocked.

"Rolf, I bet 100 Septims that I can knock your few remaining teeth out of your head." I smiled. "And to sweeten the deal, if I win you leave the Dunmer alone."

Rolf immediately put body into a fighting stance. _I am taller than him with a longer reach, but he easily outweighs me. Plus he stays drunk so my fists wont be quite as effective. I am faster though so I need to tire him out. Just avoid the hams he has connected to his arms and then strike while he recovers. _Years of training returned in a flash. This is a drunk though so it should not be a hard fight.

Rolf's arms stretched out in a wild swing far to my right. I ducked under his arm and hit his ribs with a quick jab. It was not a heavy blow, but give me enough and he will be feeling them tomorrow. He turned to swing again; I stepped back out of reach of the fat, drunken man. He stumbled a bit and I kicked his feet making him fall. I stepped in and punched his jaw sending the man rolling. I let him stand. The fight would have been over when he fell, but this was not a fight to the death. I needed him alive. There is no honor in beating an enemy while they are down if it is just a fist fight. People were starting to watch us now.

Rolf stood and wiped the blood from his jaw. I had apperantly split the skin on his jaw. He began to run at me. I waited until he got close then I dove under his tackle attempt. He landed in the stones behind me. H was tiring out faster than I thought he would. He again approached with his arms up. He was sweating and bloody. This fight would soon be over. His hips turned to wind up a swing yet again when I hit. A hard right hook right into his head. His whole body weight going back plus every ounce of muscle I had behind the swing. The older Nord collapsed. Some in the crowd began to cheer in excitement. Other began to loudly mock me. I picked him up by his shirt collar. "Swear on your honor as a Nord, on your honor as a Stone-Fist, and by Talos you will leave the Dunmer people alone. If I catch you or your men wrong these people again I swear to you I will make this beating look like a polite training exercise."

.

" I swear it." The Dunmer in the crowd began to cheer for me. They did not know my name, but cheered nonetheless.

After meeting with Marshes to discuss the Argonians and meeting with the Dunmer to discuss Brunwulf's idea I returned home to find Aventus waiting with a supper Brunwulf had sent over. He told me all about his day and informed me of a mystery Nord who beat up Rolf Stone-Fist today. I just smiled and told him to go to bed.

The next day I met Brunwulf for breakfast and told him of the progress so far. He gave me some gold for compensation and told me to get the next task done. The East Empire representative would be here any day now. Around noon I began my march to Cragslane. I had told Aventus what I would be doing, and I made sure he knew what was going on. Brunwulf had agreed to take care of him until I returned.

I walked through the doors and headed down a road that would lead me to war, love, and more than my fair share of self doubt.


	4. For the Love of the People

**So I am officially an Auburn Tiger now. I moved into my apartment this week, classes start next week. I will still try to update once a week. Occasionally I might miss a week. My update day will probably be Friday from now on. I repeat this will now be updated on Friday.**

**Thank you anonymous guest reviewer! I appreciate that someone besides me is enjoying the story. Feel free to continue to review. **

**S/O to Farani for the follow. Let me know what you think so far!**

**For the Love of the People**

As I passed Mixwater Mill, rain began to pour. It was as if the Gods wanted to me drown. It rained all the way to Cragslane Cavern.

Soon I passed an Imperial patrol. Three men and one dog escorting a prisoner towards Windhelm. Funny, if my father gets his war the Imperials will have no presence here. Something else I am sure he has not thought of. A police force for his Hold. The rest of my journey was uneventful. Other than the occasional wolf attack I went unhindered on my journey to Cragslane. I saw some wild durzhog when I was near the steam vents. I avoided those like I would plague victims. The durzhog were native to Morrowind,but when the Dunmer fled to Skyrim after the Red Year the durzhog followed. The appear to be related to the boar of Skyrim. Since the Red Year the population of native boar in Eastmarch has slowly dwindled. I approached the den of scum. The first thing I noticed was the large, old cages. They looked as if they were last used during the Oblivion Crises. When the Dunmer guard outside the cavern saw me approach he pulled a large war hammer from his back. "That's close enough." "Woah, friend. I just came to see a fight or two." I tried to reason with him. I did not want to fight yet. The bouncer snarled. "We don't take unannounced guests." He released the pit wolves,who must have been well trained to only attack me, and began to run at me as well. I pulled out my sword. Years of training and fighting wolves while hunting kicked in all at once. I let the first wolf run to me. When it jumped for my throat I shoved my sword into it's body. The other wolf was circling me while the Dunmer mocked me. I stutter stepped at the wolf. The wolf thought I was attacking and began to run to my left side. I kicked the wolf as it charged. When the wolf recoiled I shoved my gladius through the base of it's neck. The Dunmer approached with his war hammer swinging wide arcs. If it were a larger man, or mer, I would need to be cautious. This elf was way to small to use that particular hammer. Every swing sent him off balance. He swung from his left to right. As he swung I stepped back and waited for the blade to be clear of my body. Then I sliced at his leg. If I carried a larger blade I would have cut the lower part of his leg off. However my blade bit bone. The wound was not fatal, but unless the man saw a healer he would more than likely die. I stabbed into his chest. It was a bitter mercy, but he was a bandit. The scum of Nirn. He deserved less. Now that I was at the cave entrance proper I looked around. Two tents were set up around a small campfire. Wood was stacked in between the two camps. A tanner's hide was off to the side. Barrels and supply crates were stacked. In side the cages a dead wolf lay amidst a bloody mess of human bones. It appeared the cruel masters of this place fed people to these wolves and if a wolf died it's fellows would eat it as well, A short distance into the cave a man in mismatched armor was propped against the side of the cave. I pulled out my bow and notched an arrow. I released it. The arrow stayed true to it's mark and buried itself into the guards throat. I ran to catch him before he fell. I grabbed the large man and admired his sword. It was curved like mine but had the reach of most long swords. It was not a scimitar like those used by the Redguards. I had never seen anything like it. I would take it back to the castle blacksmith. Surely he would be able to identify it. When I crept into the fighting den proper I took in all the details of the room. Spider webs covered the place so I assumed it was a former hatching ground for the frostbite spiders. It seemed to be about the same size and design that the spiders looked for. A basic entrance deck was built out of scrap wood that appeared to be falling apart. Crates and boxes lined the deck. Various labels on the supply containers informed me that these were all stolen. Using them as cover I got closer to the rail. Two gamblers were on the outside of a rickety fighting cage. A dead wolf was being consumed by the winner. To the right a bar was set up. A woman was sitting at a stool conversing with the bar keep. One by one my arrows rained death down upon the gamblers. It was not an honorable way to die, but they were not honorable people. It was not an honorable way to kill these people. but I was outnumbered. I had hoped to make this a sneak attack. It almost worked but the wolf saw me. It took off at a mad dash to the back room. I could hear a commotion from the back part of the cavern. I waited until it was calm again before I stepped out of the shadows. I quickly went around the room and collected all the arrows I could. The two at the bar had collapsed onto the arrows. The had snapped at the shaft. There would be no retrieving those two arrows. I crept into the back room. A wolf with it's head caved in was on the ground. A set of cages were empty,but for one. It had an angry, scarred wolf in it. I had never seen the effects of pit fighting. I had heard rumors, but this wolf told me all I needed to know. Then I noticed the Redguard with his back turned to me. He wore the armor I had seen men down at the docks wear. It was a pirates armor. He had a large dwarven war hammer on his back. His hair was shaved in all but the middle. His mohawk hung limply to the side. That is when I knew I was not just here to clear out a bandit hideout. This was the Butcher, not to be confused with the Butcher of Windhelm. This man was one of the most infamous bandits in all of Skyrim. It is said his war hammer can cleave clean through a man. I pulled out my sword and slowly approached the man. I had forgotten the keen ears of the wolf. The wolf began to growl, then it barked. The pit wolf made for a good guard dog. It almost saved the Butcher's life. Almost. He turned and drew his weapon all in one motion. He was definitely better equipped to use this form of weaponry than his counterpart outside. He brought the hammer down as if he were nailing the very dirt to Nirn. His swing was mighty and his arms were strong. This was a bandit worth his salt. If I was hit just once I would be finished. Wherever he hit me I would either have broken bones, be dying, or already dead. I needed to get inside his swing. If I could get inside I would not have to worry about the head of the hammer. The next horizontal swing I rolled under his weapon and came up right inside the man's personal space. I brought my blade up with me. I hoped to open him up like I would an animal. I did not expect his left hand to grab my arm. His head crashed into mine and sent me to ground several feet away. The room was spinning. He laughed as he brought the hammer down again. My vision returned to normal at the last possible second and I managed to roll away. All but my gladius escaped this man's terrible strength. It bent my gladius beyond use. I had my hunting dagger, my bow, and the unknown blade I had picked up. Taking the sword from where I had it bound at my side I approached the Butcher again. He just smiled at he brought his blade back again. I threw my dagger at him. I normally don't throw daggers, but it was something I had practiced as a boy. The small blade flew at him. He had seen the flick of my wrist and dodged. Just as I knew he would. I shoved my sword through his chest before he knew what was going on. The smile disappeared from his face as the light faded from his eyes. After putting the wolf out of it's misery I stepped up to the table to see what he had been up to. Random purple bottles and different alchemical ingredients were laying on the table. A letter was rolled up there. I read the contents of the letter and found out this was also a Skooma den. The Butcher took the profits from the pit fighting and bought the ingredients for Skooma. He would then make the Skooma and sell it to a man in Riften. I would return this letter to Ulfric's court and hoped they would do the proper thing about it.

It felt good to see the walls of Windhelm again. The castle high about the districts. It's ancient walls standing as tall and strong as the day Ysgramor's people first built them. I was proud to be a Nord.

When I entered Brunwulf's home late that night Aventus ran to give me a hug. Brunwulf walked towards us and clapped my back. "How did everything go?" The elder asked quietly. He handed me a tankard of mead. Aventus fixed me a bowl of vegetable soup with pieces of grilled chicken in it. "Well when you told me to clear out a bandit hideaway I didn't expect to be fighting the Butcher." I said very sarcastic. I then regaled the two with my story. Aventus had hundreds of questions for me, but Brunwulf silenced the child to allow me to eat. When I had finished my supper I turned to the two. They had sat there in silence and watched me practically inhale an entire bowl. The mead hadn't lasted any longer. Aventus had began to take on weight. I'm not calling the boy fat. I am saying someone finally taking care of him has caused him to finally fill out. Brunwulf appeared incredibly happy. I can only wonder how he looked before he had a family again. "Well we need to get to bed. Uther has to be up early tomorrow." Brunwulf told the young Imperial. "I do?" I asked. I honestly was wanting another bowl. I was not quite satiated. "Yes you are meeting the East Empire Company representatives tomorrow morning at nine. As soon as their doors are open you will be in there. You will need warm clothing as you will be away for awhile. Aventus and I have taken the liberty of buying you new armor, clothes, and gear for your trip." Brunwulf grinned. "What trip?" I groaned. I wanted to rest. I wanted to spend time with Aventus and Brunwulf. Maybe even get Ulfric to speak with me in private. Since I had almost died I had some words for him. By Shor's bones I would never get to do what I want. "I have spoke with Ms. Vendicci. There are several things needing to be done. She will tell you all you need to know. Rest well Uther." With that Brunwulf went to his bedroom. Aventus and I walked back to his house for the night. Aventus had a barrage of questions for the entire walk there. It did not stop once we arrived inside the house. I changed into sleep wear while still answering the boy. Finally I told him to go to bed and we would speak in the morning. That night I had dreams of Aranwen. A small elf I barely knew. Her hair flowing down her body. Her smile, her eagerness to talk. I could not get her kissing my cheek out of my mind. In Riverwood there were no girls my age. Roland had spent all his time in town working the forge so I am sure he had met girls who stopped at the inn, but I however was always out in the woods. I did not want a meaningless traipse with someone I would never see again. I wanted someone who mattered to me. That's what made my dream of Aranwen all the more strange, I barely knew the girl. Just because she was there for a pivotal time in my life doesn't mean I love her. The women I had met so far in Windhelm did not seem worth the time. The next morning I left Aventus asleep in his bed, grabbed my bag, and headed down to the docks of the city. Nordic longboats and galleys lined the rows of the docks. Imperial frigates were docked farther out to sea. Imperial ships of all kinds were docked as well. Hammerfellian briemes were at port. Ferrymen were busy taking people out to the ships that could not dock. Barges were being loaded to take supplies out, and some were coming down the river with wood from the Mill. Argonians were crawling all over Windhelm's port. Scouts-Many Marshes took a break from his work to approach me and thank me for all I have done for his people. It was all I could do to get away when the people of Argonia realized I was on the dock. Finally I saw the East Empire Company office and made a break for it. The East Empire Company opened it's doors at nine o' clock sharp. I entered the small building and was shocked at the state of disrepair it was in. The Company was the strongest commercial affiliate in the Empire's economy. Despite that the Skyrim office was as rundown as Cragslane Cavern was. An Imperial woman in the battle dress of a general was chewing out an Imperial man. He looked like a typical merchant. "I'm sorry, Adelaisa." He mumbled into the cup in his hands. "Sorry isn't good enough, Orthus. There is a lot of gold at stake here and sniveling into your mead is not going to get it back." At this the man just whimpered. "Don't you worry. I have a man for the job." She told Orthus. I cleared my throat since the two had not even heard my entrance. "Ah this must be him now." Orthus smiled. I sat my fur bag down and asked. "Brunwulf sent me here. What do you need me to do? "Pirates are prowling the coast. All the ships you saw outside? Did you notice the size? Most of them are small. They are blockade runners and shore vessels. The frigates you saw are owned by the Shatter-Shield Clan. They are the only ones to make it past the pirate. I need you to get inside their office and see if you can find any evidence of a deal between the Clan and the pirates." Orthus explained. Windhelm's guards patrolled the docks. I could see the blue of the Stormcloak clan walking throughout the masses of people. When I found the Shatter-Shield office I also discovered that two Windhelm men guarded it as well. I found Scouts-Many-Marshes and asked for his assistance. "Marshes, I need a distraction. Nothing to land you in jail, but just enough to get those guards away from the door. Can you do that for me?" I asked. "Of course. Let it be known I always pay my debts." Scouts-Many-Marshes rasped at me. He ran to the guards crying out about missing equipment. His men could not unload the ships properly if they did not have their equipment. The two dim wit guards followed Marshes to prowl the docks to find his "equipment." I entered the office to find a familiar Dunmer woman. She was the woman I had rescued from Rolf Stone-Fist. "Ah Uther. We are one of a kind you know?" I sincerely hoped she was not flirting with me. Dunmer women were known to be promiscuous. "I did not know that. What makes us of the same kind?" She motioned for me to follow her to the back room. Okay, now I am really worried what she is trying to do. I follow despite my worry. She sits at a table with a ledger and a journal next to it. I begin to walk over slowly when she grabs my arm and pulls me in well within her personal space, her face gets closer and closer to mine. She places my hands on her hips. Yeah Dunmer women are definitely promiscuous. "Um I don't know your name?" I try just to calm her down. "Sulvaris Atheron." She began to kiss my neck. I am uncomfortable with this whole affair. To make matters worse I feel a tightening in my armor. My body is reacting the way it wants to, not the way my brain wants it to. I managed to get her to stop. "Look ma'am I don't know anything about you. I know I saved you from Rolf and that you work here." "Well a man who cares where he sheathes his sword? Isn't that odd?" She grinned. She grabbed at the tightness. "Ah I understand now. You have never had a partner." I smacked her hand away. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I want it to mean something. I guess humans and mer are different in that. If you want it that bad put a little time into it." "Fine, I'll tell you about myself. I have two brothers in town. Their names are Faryl and Aval. I drink at the Corner Club. Best brew in town there. I work here because I can make money appear as if out of thin air." Now I was listening I may find out about the pirates. "Old Torbjorn Shatter-Shield pays me what he thinks a "Darkie" deserves. By Azura the Argonians now make more than I do. So occasionally I skim some money out of his coffers." Just then an idea hit me. The journal would be where she wrote down all of her transactions. If I could get that I could find out about her dealings with the pirates. "That's all I need for now. I am still not letting you get all you want." I leaned down and kissed the thieving steward. I could tell I had surprised her. As her hands found their way around my neck I reached my arms behind her. One hand found her back and pulled her more into the kiss. The other found the logbook and tucked it into the small of my back. The book was nestled between my armor and my back. The waistband of the pants I wore under my armor held it in place. I kissed her for a few minutes more and pulled out of the kiss. "I will see you around?" I asked. I really hoped not, but I could play it off as if I were concerned. "I would let you stay." I shook my head no. "Well you can find me here or in the Gray Quarter." I turned and walked out. "Ah here he is. Judging by the mark on your neck we don't need to know how you procured the logbook. Just let me have it." My face burned with embarrassment. "Ah she has been traveling to Dawnstar to meet a man named Stig Salt-Plank about "shipments." Go meet him there. Find out what he knows." A week later I was back in the office. "Stig is from a crew named the Blood Horkers. I don't know what that means, but as soon as he had my gold his men set sail for Hammerfell. Said something about not wanting Haldyn finding him." Adelaisa groaned. "I know Haldyn. He is a battlemage. He used to be a Company man. Brilliant strategist. We will have our work cut out for us. Did you catch where the sailed from?" "Japeth's Folly,"I answered. We set sail before the day was out. Myself, Ada, and a crew of the Empire's mercenaries. "Ada, I don't understand. You wear the armor of a general, your men wear legion armor. Yet, you claim to be merchants." I pondered. "We are independent of the Imperial military. We are a merchant company chartered by a Septim Emperor hundreds of years ago. We are the economy of the Empire. Sure a little trade occurs between each province, but we are the vast majority. People like the Blood Horkers prey on us for our economic prowess. They don't realize our strength. Most men who serve with us are former military men. We encourage veterans to sign on with us. We use the armor to show that while we are independent we are still allied. It is a strong point. Also, when we have missions like this any surviving bandits tell of the Imperial Navy raiding their base. Our mercenaries remain a secret and the Navy gets a reputation boost." When we arrived Ada sent me and three of her men to cross the ice field and kill Haldyn. He had conjured a mist to surround the island. They did not know we were there, but we did not know their numbers. We descended from the boat using rope ladders. Slowly making our way across the ice we watched for cracks. One misstep and it would mean death. Even for the hardiest Nord the waters of the Sea of Ghosts was too cold to survive. Halfway across the ice I heard a scream. One of the men had stepped on the edge of the ice. The entire thing had flipped trapping him under water. If they had not heard the scream we would be lucky. As we were crawling onto the dock. I heard a sickening noise then a splash. Two of my men down. The archer had seen us. He yelled for more men to come. A mage and a swordsmen ran out to help their friend. Judging by their lack of reinforcements I hoped their main force was out to sea. Nocking an arrow I silenced their archer. The other mercenary killed the bandit sword slinger. Together we killed the mage. The Imperial and myself made our way into the main camp. Three sentries patrolled a quiet vigil. The camp itself was made up of several small wooden building. The building were utilized for survival in this harsh wintry land. One building had supplies set in it. One had the workings of a smithy, though the forge was cold. Two buildings served as their barracks. One held a large number of bedrolls while the other had furs and clothing in it. We silently took out the sentries as we came across them. I used my bow while the Imperial used his dagger. It was a cruel wicked blade of Orcish design. Up the wooden ramp a small hut served as their kitchen. Fish hung above a fire right outside. Up the way inside the next part of camp a bar had been set up. Barrels of various brews were lined up on the wall. Bottles sat around. The next building was nothing but chopped wood and more wood waiting to be chopped. It must be a harsh life out here. When we reached the door to the keep I realized this was an incredibly bad idea. "Stop, double back. We are going into that old sea cave we saw. Maybe it will have a way up. I don't like going into their through their front doors." The Imperial just nodded at me. We entered a cave that had supplies all in it. "I hoped that it would be a back way into this place. I was right." I smiled at the Imperial. "I was worried we were going into a cave with no exit." He grinned back at me. We made out way through the cave killing any mudcrabs we saw until we found a hole in the keep's wall. The builders of the keep either built into a cave and decided it would be useful if they needed to escape or they dug out the cave at a later date. Once we made it up the stairs to the Keep we could here an Orc singing about a bear. An Orc in full armor was singing while a half naked Nord drank beside him. I ran in and buried my sword through the Orc's abdomen. The Nord tried to draw a bow when I am barely five feet from him. I cut across him stomach emptying his bowels unto the floor. Finally after fighting through any Blood Horkers we saw we entered the top of the Keep. Around a scrying table a redguard mage stood. His eyes were as gray as the hair on his head. He turned," You picked a wrong time to come here friend." His lightning took the life of my compatriot. My blade took the life from him. I dodged the lightning that burst from the man's hands. The sparks erupted on the ground beside me. When I neared the man I drove my sword through his mage armor and into his chest. As he died I realized the graying over of his eyes was the mist spell he had conjured. His eyes turned from gray to a deep brown. Before I could make it out of the keep I could hear the shelling begin. The Company would destroy this old fortress so it would never be used against them again. I just wished they would wait til I was back on the boat. I know they wanted to kill all Blood Horkers but I was still here. I ran through camp as if Molag Bal himself was at my back. Explosions rocked all around me. Buildings came apart as I ran by. Ada stood at the docks. The two galleys the Blood Horkers had were destroyed. Two ferries had landed. Ada and as many mercenaries that could fit were on the shore. "Ah, glad to see you made it. We started firing as soon as you made the mist scamper away. Hope you didn't catch any fire. We will sail as soon as you're ready." "Let's just go." I snarled. After three weeks of traveling and fighting I was incredibly happy to be sitting in the Candlehearth Inn drinking mead with Brunwulf. It felt good to be home. The next day I went to the East Empire Company to meet Orthus and Ada. They thanked me for my services and paid me one thousand golden Septims. As I was making my way back to Brunwulf's to see him about our plan a guard approached me. "Jarl Ulfric wants to see you. Now" There I found Ulfric sitting on his throne with all his retainers gathered around. Jorleif at his left hand; Galmar was on his right. Brunwulf was in the crowd. He had Aventus with him. "You've become a true hero of Skyrim. I number you among my kin. You shall now be known as Stormblade. The love of the land and her people flows from your heart, even as death to her enemies flows from your hands. On behalf of the sons and daughters of Skyrim, on behalf of all that is righteous and true, take this token of our appreciation for your service." He handed me an enchanted war axe. I have also arranged for you to become the owner of a house in town. Speak with Jorleif about the details. Last but most importantly of all I name you Thane of Eastmarch. You are Thane of the Mixwater! I assign Calder Stone-Fist to be your personal housecarl. May Talos guide you." Ulfric announced before everyone. "Send word to the other Holds. This man is a servant of Skyrim and her people, people of all races. He is a Thane and a trusted member of my court. I wish for him to be treated as such. Now let's celebrate!" All the men and women in the court raised their glasses in my name. "Hold, my Jarl. I too have an announcement to make!" Brunwulf yelled over the crowd. "What is it, old friend?" Ulfric bellowed. I did not understand how he was so loud, yet he was only talking. He was not yelling, his voice just broadcast when he wanted it to. "As the Free-Winter Clan is without heir, and Uther Stormblade is without patronage, I would wish with your permission to adopt Uther into my Clan. As my daughter died years ago I have been without kin. As you said he is numbered amongst my kin and a true son of Skyrim. I count myself also as one. This makes us family through actions. If something should happen to me, Uther Stormblade, a hero of the people will inherit my estate and all my belongings." The people of the court cried out with glee. Ulfric's face however was despondent. He truly did not approve, but would go with his people's happiness. "Very well, let him be known as Free-Winter's heir." Ulfric raised his tankard. 


	5. A Friendly Face

**A Friendly Face**

**AN: In the past few chapters I have made Uther too serious, too mature. I don't want to portray him as that to awful much. He is almost twenty-one. He is mature for his age, but not as mature as a middle aged man. In this chapter Uther has some downtime in between everything so I will show the younger side. There is only one part that will require him to be fully serious. **

**I am introducing a character in this chapter, one I hope to use in a later story. Speaking of which if you have read this far into the story you have read chapters that either mention or will cross with stories I plan to include. Either three or four stories or one shots.**

**Also I make mention of the mods I use. I use immersive armor mod. So I mention the heroic Stormcloak armor used in it. It is standard Stormcloak armor in my stories. **

I entered the Shatter-Shield home. After my return from Japeth's Folly I had informed the patriarch of the family of his steward's thievery and association with pirates. I informed him of his family name being besmirched by her actions. Instead of firing her the man, instead forgave her. He gave her a harsh reprimand, but changed her pay to be what a Nordic steward would receive.

"So Torbjorn, what caused this change in heart? When I met you a month ago you were all Skyrim for the Nords and all that. What happened?" I asked. I was truly curious about the man. I knew I was stepping on the line of personal boundaries, but the man owed me.

"Forgive my mood. Before you came along my daughter was killed by that damned Butcher. At first I took to heavy drinking and being rough on my employees. Then you came along and fixed some of the racial tension in the city. Not everything is fixed yet, but things are a whole lot closer. But your story you made me think of something." He answered. In his eyes I could see a sadness I would never wish on anyone. To be a parent who outlived their child was a travesty.

"I..I. I am sorry Torbjorn. I honestly did not know. I would not have mentioned it." I struggled to apologize.

"Be quiet boy. I wasn't finished yet. When my daughter died my family went into disarray. I too to drink and Tova became suicidal. Brunwulf tried to help us through it as he had lost his daughter years ago. The thing is, Uther, seeing Brunwulf with you and that little Imperial boy made me remember something. Friga was so full of life before she was killed. She loved any and all that she could. She did not judge someone for their race or their history. When you came into town and began to fix things that we sorely needed I realized I needed to be fixed as well." He finished. His wife entered the room with two plates of venison chops. She did not speak to us. She merely placed the food at the table and departed from our company.

"I'd appreciate if you don't bother my wife, Tova. She's still in mourning." He informed me. I had hoped he would not have caught my confused look.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" I asked.

"Ah, glad they made you thane. I've been looking for an Amulet of Arkay to remind my wife that our child is with the Gods now, but I've been to busy to find one."

"Don't worry old man. I will find you one." Without even finishing my meal I left to find the grieving family some peace.

My first stop was the Temple of Talos. It had been too long since I had been in a proper Temple. I was a devout of the Nine, but I had been busy to the point that my worship consisted of a prayer while I held my amulet. I as a believer in all of the Aedra prayed to the Divines when I needed help in their aspects. The main Divine I prayed to was Talos. I approached the shrine. A statue stood of man's greatest hero. He held a sword down into the mouth of an odd looking serpent. I knelt in prayer.

The local priest was a man who served Ulfric in the castle daily. His wife was left in charge of the day to day responsibilities. This man was truly blessed with a wonderful wife, she ran the place better than he could.

"Excuse me, Jora?" I tried to stop the busy priestess from her tasks. I know it was rude, but until Lortheim came in from the castle she would be too busy to help worshipers.

"Yes, my thane?" Being called "my thane" was something I still was unaccustomed to.

"Would you know where I might find an amulet of Arkay?" I inquired. "I have a friend who is mourning."

"Try the Hall of the Dead. Helgird is one ordained by Arkay." She answered.

"Thank you ma'am." I left the store at a brisk pace. I knew where the Hall of the Dead was. It happened to be on my way to the Shatter-Shield home. It all worked out well.

I found Helgrid studying the bodies of the dead. These were the murdered victims of the Butcher. The serial killer was recently captured by a captain from Solitude. He was renowned for his investigation skills and Ulfric had written for help to catch the murderer.

"Ah how may I help you?" Helgird asked. Her voice was just one of those voices that make you cringe when you hear it.

"Might you have an Amulet of Arkay for purchase?" I asked. "I have a friend in mourning who thinks that the Divines can comfort."

"Ah, Do we have an Amulet around here?" She asked aloud. Did she really just talk to a room full of corpses? I think this woman has spent too much time below ground with the dead.

"I know!" She exclaimed. " Up in the living space. An amulet hangs there. Take it."

"Do you need anything for it?" I offered. I knew the amulet was not free. I hoped she would say no because I honestly just wanted to escape her.

She declined any help or payment for the amulet. She claimed to just be serving the Divines and asked me to leave so she could return to her work. I ran to the room where Helgrid kept as her living quarters and found the amulet she spoke of. Departing for the Shatter-Shield home I thanked Talos and the rest for letting me leave there will my sanity intact.

I stood waiting in their doorstep. I had knocked but had heard no response. Snow was falling in this part of Skyrim. It was not a hard snow, light and lazy as it fell to the earth beneath my feet. Watching the snow only made me feel colder as I waited on the porch.

The door swung open to reveal a young Nordic woman. She was an attractive girl. A mixture of blond and brown hair. Slim body. Judging her person I figured she was not hurting for money. The only person I knew of my age to be of relation to the Shatter-Shield Clan was murdered by a mad man. I assumed her to be a servant. She stared at me as if to ask what I needed.

"I came to see Torbjorn Shatter-Shield." I informed the woman at the door. She coldly glared at me.

"My father is busy comforting my mother. Call again on the morrow." She declared. Daughter? How was she the daughter? Wasn't the daughter killed by the Butcher?

"Well, quit staring at me like a milk-drinker! Did you ever think that my father could have two daughters? I know you were trying to piece together how I was still alive. The Butcher killed my twin sister! Have you ever lost anyone!" By now she is screaming at me in the streets of Windhelm. People were staring as they passed by. All I had done was what the old man asked me to do!

"Please, I had no idea. Your father sent me to retreive an amulet of Arkay for your mother. Will you please permit me inside long enough to do as requested." I showed her the amulet to prove my good will. Please just let me through woman.

"I will take you to see my father. Don't think that means you can do as you like." She told me as she turned around. I followed her inside the building.

Since I returned home from Japeth's Folly Brunwulf and myself were now trying to have the upper class get involved in helping around the city. He was off to see the Cruel-Sea family and I was working on the Shatter-Shield family. If the Divines blessed a good harvest then the Cruel-Sea farms could feed the entire Hold the rest of the year. The Shatter-Shield Clan were the proprietors of the second largest shipping company in Skyrim. The East Empire Company was larger, but the Shatter-Shield's were a serious threat to their monopoly.

Torbjorn was sitting beside his wife patting him on the shoulder. His daughter, whose name I have not yet learned, motioned for him. I stepped through holding up the amulet as he turned to face us.

"Talos bless you, Uther. I have one more favor to ask of you. I know you are a busy man, being a Thane of Eastmarch, Will you escort my daughter as she shops? I know it seems petty, but I just need some assurance of her safety until our family is through mourning."

"Aye, I will help." I was just here to help these people. I came here to ask for their help, but after I saw their need I knew the Divines wanted me here for other reasons. Reasons that were unknown to me.

Her eyes shot daggers. She turned to the door. I followed after her with out a word.

Thus went day after day, week into week. I would handle my duties as thane of Eastmarch then escort Nilsine around the market area. She rarely bothered to speak to me. If she did speak then it was usually something rude or sarcastic. After three weeks of this attitude I finally had enough.

"Nilsine, what in the world did I do to you?" I asked her. By asking I mean rudely yelling very loudly in the common area of the market. By that I mean tons of people were watching us. One of the three thanes yelling at the heiress to the Shatter-Shield Clan in front of all the people of the Hold.

"Excuse me, my Thane!" She spit the words out venomously, mocking my title. "I guess you don't realize what my father has been doing to us. Do you?"

"Ummm...no?" Now I am confused. What did he have to do with anything? I am the one she has been treating like I am a deadra worshipper.

"You idiot. You are the heir to the Free-Winter Clan. I am the heir to the Shatter-Shield Clan. He has had you taking me around on these daily excursions for weeks. You think you are strengthening your position? You have no idea. It won't be long before he tries to arrange a marriage between the two of us." She was no longer yelling. Now she was talking to me. Despite her volume I could see how upset she was.

"Am I that bad, Nilsine? I'm sorry for whatever I have done to hurt you, but am I that bad?" I stammered. I did not love Nilsine, but Skyrim allows little for love. Courtship is normally brief marriage quick. I wanted to know how I had wronged her so.

"Uther you fool you did no wrong it is the situation." She quietly responded. "Is there anywhere we can go to talk away from everyone?"

"Follow me, but do not over react." I lead her through the various districts and the crowds of people. When we walked out the gates she just looked at me. I grabbed her and pulled. When she finally began to follow I led her up the stairs and to the side of the bridge. I sat with my feet dangling over the water hundreds of feet below. She seemed hesitant.

"Do you see that Nilsine? That ocean is the Sea of Ghosts. Beyond it lies ancient Atmora. I like to sit here and stare out. It gets beautiful at night time. The Guardian Signs are lit up in the night's sky." With that she sat down next to me.

"Well you certainly inherited Ulfric's silver tongue." She smiled at me. I only looked dumbfounded in return. "What you think neither myself nor my father were there when you made your claim? You are his son. He can deny you, but you are his."

"You are too kind. Can we talk about other things? Did we not come here to discuss why you hate me so much?"

"Uther, I do not hate you. I do not like what my father has been doing to us. He is trying to put us in the position where we can not say no to his arranged marriage. You came as a friend to help him and he saw the opportunity." Nilsine informed me. She hung her head and looked down at the sea.

"Nilsine, would it be so terrible? Would I be so terrible? I asked you in the market but I will ask again. Am I that bad?" I was truly hurt.

"Uther, you dolt. It is not that I think you so bad. I just want to marry a man I love. I know it sounds odd here in Skyrim, but I have traveled with my father all over Tamriel. I want someone I love."

"Okay..." I struggled to find words.

"Just walk me back to the market, I have to buy some tomatoes."

Purchase complete we began to walk back to the Western Wall district. A man in an all black suit of armor began to walk towards us. Well, it could be a mer. The armor covers everything so there is way to tell what race he is.

"Do you hear that?" He asked Nilsine. His voice sounded like a Dunmer's. He carried the drawl of the Ashlands.

"No, what am I supposed to be hearing?" She answered with her own question.

"It's the sound of your sister screaming in the Void!" He screamed. His hand came up as a purple mystical blade appeared. His conjured sword would easily best my own sword and my armor had no hopes of turning it. I needed him to lose his focus so the sword would fade.

Dropping my shoulder into the man I brought us both to the ground. I began to pommel his hands with my large fists. I was not as strong as Roland, but I had my own strength to me. Strength that shows when my life or another life is in danger.

The assassin kicked me off of him and flipped up to stand. He began to walk towards Nilsine. The sword returning to his side. "Your lapdog will serve you no good." He laughed.

I pulled the dagger from my side. He was too close to Nilsine for me to comfortably use my sword. The gladius would have worked. The sword I have carried since Craglsane however was almost double the length of the gladius I carried. My dagger was an efficient blade. Crafted by the same man in the same fires used by the Companions. The Skyforge Steel would not be bent the way my gladius was.

The elf tried to taunt Nilsine one last time before he tried to end her life. "Muiri sent me. She is quite unhappy..."

And my blade dug into his back. It was not a killing blow, but enough to make the sword disappear.

"You fetcher! You N'Wah! Tribunal take you!" He began to run through the street in an attempt to escape. Purple Dunmer blood left a trail easy to follow. Before I could chase the villianous bastard a group of guardsmen ran after him. No longer having to chase him down, I turned to Nilsine.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She would probably be scarred for life.

"Get me home now!"

Throwing her over my shoulder I began the trudge through the Market District. People of all races parted as I went. In the Cemetery District no one had seen what had happened. Fighting my way through the people paying their respects, I thanked the Divines I would not be here doing the same.

I did not wait on someone to open the door for us. I did not even bother knocking. I kicked it in and strode through their home. Torbjorn and Tova ran towards us each carrying weapons.

"Uther! What in the name of Talos is wrong with you?" Torbjorn yelled at me.

"An assassin attacked Nilsine in the Market. He stabbed him but he got away. There are some guards chasing him now." I told the old man.

"Did he say anything? Wear any special armor? Anything to give you a clue?" He asked.

"He wore some weird black armor. It hid his face. He spoke with an Ashlander accent. He even used Dunmeri curse words when I stabbed him. He said something to Nilsine, but I couldn't hear what he said." I tried my hardest to give every detail. I just could not remember every little thing. It had all happened to fast.

"Nilsine what did he say to you?" The worried father turned to his surviving daughter and sole heir.

"He told me Friga was screaming in the Void. Then he told me that Muiri had sent him." She stammered. She had been crying into her mothers shoulder since I had brought her in. The two mourning parents looked deeply upset at the news.

"Who is Muiri?" I asked. I had never heard the name before but it obviously meant a great deal to the Shatter-Shield's. If her name meant so much why would she hire an assassin to kill Nilsine?

"She was a girl who grew up with Nilsine and Friga. She was like a daughter to us. Her parents were Reachman and while Ulfric took the Reach her parents were killed. She followed Ulfric's host back to Windhelm. We took her in. We raised her and fed her. When Friga was murdered we went into mourning but Muiri met a scoundrel from the Corner Club. Alain Dufont. Breton man who was a former Thieves Guild who became a bandit. He used Nilsine to get close to us. He took the family weapon. A war hammer named Aegisbane. We kicked Muiri out. It was her fault he came to us to begin with. Now we have to daughters dead to us." Tova said more than I had ever heard her speak at one time. Maybe more than I had ever heard all together.

"Where is she now? She should be brought to the High King's justice!" I shouted.

"Boy, have you not heard? Dark tales come from Markarth. I think this is something better left for Ulfric to tell you as you are a Thane of his court." Torbjorn looked deeply concerned that no one had told me his grim news.

I left their home with a heavy heart. I knew not the feelings I had for Nilsine. She spoke of marriage and of love. Very rarely do the two cross in Skyrim. Did I love her, or do I love the idea of being in love?

Approaching the gates of the Palace of Kings stood a detachment of the Stormcloak soldiers. These were not the usual Windhelm guards. These men were wearing the steel plate with Stormcloak blue worn around. These men were battle tested. You could look in the men's eyes and see that they have spilled the blood of many a man onto the fields of Skyrim. These were the heroes of the Stormcloak faction.

Brunwulf was standing with a group of people protesting outside the Palace. He was doing his best to keep the peace.

"Brunwulf! What is going on? What the name of Talos is happening?" I shouted over the rioting in the city. People were throwing rotten vegetables at the soldiers. The tomatoes and lettuce worried me, but it did amuse me to see the occasional leek go arching over the lines.

"Boy, have you not heard?" He roared back over the shouting peasants. "I know you have heard at least one story, but dragons are back. It is no longer rumors or superstition. Villages have been burned down all over Skyrim. Windhelm has shut her gates to anyone who is not a Nord. These people are protesting for the refugees to be let in or a camp to built on the outskirts of the city."

"I thought the dragon rumors just were what I told you and that the Dragon Cult had come back?" I got closer to him. The people were getting louder. "Can we not do anything about this. Thane of Mixwater and Thane of Kynsegrove together working for the people?"

"Boy, you are too young to understand. Ulfric is not here now. He has left. Galmar sits in his stead until he returns. Ulfric would never use his soldiers on his own people. He would never show them to this many at once." Brunwulf looked at me as if I needed admonishment. It was like a slap to the hand.

"Where is Ulfric?" I yelled.

"What?" The older man returned.

"Where is the Jarl?" I yelled again. Had the man lost his hearing or where the crowds getting that much louder?

"Have you not heard? Markarth has fallen. Jarl Igmund is dead. They have his body hanging from the tower in the city. The Reachman retook the city about a week ago. The riders say that they came in the night. The only killed the people who fought back but any Nords they have rounded up and place them in Cidna mine." Brunwulf Free-Winter yelled over the din.

"How are we just now finding out about this?" I screamed back.

"The riders arrived a few days ago. Ulfric left the city as soon as he was prepared. He left for Solitude to meet with the High King. That is all I know."

"Would Galmar know?" I inquired. If we would be at war I would need to know. As Thane of Mixwater, I would lead the people of the Mixwater under the banner of Eastmarch.

"If you could get into the Palace to see him."

I ran towards the guards of men. I stopped just short of a man in full steel plate. His helmet was down over his eyes.

"I am Uther Stormblade. I am Thane of the Mixwater, a Thane of Eastmarch Hold. I need inside the Palace." I demanded. I did not order, I just demanded my way in.

"Galmar Stone-Fist says no one inside until Ulfric returns." The Nordic captain said.

A straw haired Nord with a cocky grin came up. "Ease Gonnar. You know this man. Galmar's son is his Housecarl of Talos sake. I grew up with him. He won't harm a fly."

"Ralof!" I was overjoyed to see my old friend. He grabbed my arm in the old Nordic way. I was pulled through the ranks of soldiers towards the doors. Inside Galmar and Calder were deep in discussion.

"Galmar! I demand to know what in the name of the Nine Divines is going on? Where is Ulfric?" I yelled at the larger, bearded man.

"Who are you to demand anything from me? A bastard?"

"I am a thane in this court. I command people in the name of the Bear of Markarth, the Bear of Eastmarch, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. What is happening."

"Ulfric left for Solitude to meet with the boy king. He wanted to know what was being done about the Markarth situation. He wanted to bring the Stormcloaks in. He said the Empire would do nothing. He arrived in Solitude on the King's wedding night."

I interrupted. "So the Jarl left without telling his Thanes any if this information? We were left in the dark."

"No boy. His other Thanes were given command over different parts of the Stormcloak armies. They await command."

"Are we mobilizing? Has it finally come to war?" I stammered. War was a foreign concept to me. I knew combat but war was something entirely different. Civil War would mean brother fighting brother in the streets of Skyrim. Cities would be torn down not by Aldmeri forces but by people who lived within it's walls.

Then came the news that shocked me. When I heard the words that Galmar said next my blood ran cold.

"The High King is dead boy. Ulfric killed him by duel on his wedding night. The child was to busy with his wedding to worry of his people dying. He was to worried about his wife's virginity than his people's suffering." With the Galmar spit on the ground. "May Tsun judge him accordingly."

A man in light weight leather blue armor with a blue scarf with the bear stitched in came running in.

"Sir we need you on the wall!"

We ran for the wall's of the greatest city of man. When we passed the protesting common folk outside the palace I grabbed Brunwulf and filled him in on the current happenings.

From the walls of the city we could see a large host was approaching the city walls. They came from the west. A crimson sea rolling into the Sea of Ghosts. The Imperial army was approaching the home of the Nordic way of life.

"Open the doors!" I screamed.

"Belay that order. Keep them sealed!" Galmar shouted down at the city guardsmen.

"Galmar we need to think fast. I can get the people of the city who can fight to prepare. Rally the the Stormcloaks. But damn it all to Oblivion, open the doors!" Now I was not shouting at some lowly guard, I was shouting at a man who could make me regret it.

Before he said anything else he saw what I had seen.

At the front of the host rode a one rider. His horse looked ready to keel over dead with any step. Between this rider and the safety of Windhelm stood amassed a large gathering of civilians. In front of the Imperial army rode Ulfric Stormcloak killer of the king.

**I want to apologize for the delay. My laptop died and I am now having to use a tablet. All my chapters I had saved are gone and I am having to go from chapter 5 onwards from scratch.**


	6. The Wolves of Winter

**So because my laptop died I have been writing these on my tablet. I had not sent any docs to the cloud so I lost everything. I have around 15 or 16 chapters planned for this tale of Uther. So I will be writing around 10 from scratch. I will no longer be able to do my weekly update thing as I am working while an architecture student. My major is literally a job, and I work another so I will try to update as I can people. I am sorry for the wait.**

**On this chapter, I really enjoyed this chapter. I read the battle for The Wall in ****_A Storm of Swords _****as inspiration. Also Ulfric will be dropping a bomb on the character. Whenever I can manage the next chapter I will deal with the effects of Ulfric's revelation as well as get started on some familiar ground. Thank you and feel free to review! **

**The Wolves of Winter**

We met Ulfric at the front gates of Windhelm. The sun was descending into the nights sky when Ulfric rode into the city's gates. The city sprawled out behind the men watching from the walls. The standard of the Stormcloak Clan fluttered in the winter breeze. The blue and white showing the true nature of the proud city. Blue as the sea of ghosts, white as the winter snow.

We had just managed to get all the people who had gathered at the city's bridge inside when Ulfric's horse cantered up. "Well met. He grinned. "I trust you lot have taken good care of my city?" It seemed as if the army behind him had no effect on him.

I went amongst the group of men who served as Ulfric's lieutenants. Galmar stood out amongst the crowd. He served as Ulfric's right hand, and had done so since they were young, fresh faced men. The other Thanes all had the appearance of a typical Nord. Galmar however was large even for the already large race of Nords. His hair was a strong red while his beard was long enough to hit the middle of his chest. I was the youngest of the group, yet I would soon prove my worth on the battlefield. It helped that I was Ulfric's bastard son.

"The bastards have the balls to fly Toryyg's banner!" Ulfric growled. "These men don't follow his banner. They blindly follow the Empire's!" This he added with a mouthful of spit.

"Are you mad?" Brunwulf screamed. Do you not see the host of Imperials behind you?"

"Ulfric, why is the Imperial Legion following you to our city's door?" Galmar asked nonchalantly. He seemed just as unaffected by the threat of war as Ulfric was. If these two were this unfazed by the threat of death than the Great War must have been truly as horrific as everyone described it to be.

"The Emperor was in Solitude for the wedding of the boy and his fair maiden. He was staying at a ship at anchor in the Solitude's port. After the wedding an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood killed the man in his quarters. As you know I rode to Solitude to find out what our High King had in store for the half breeds in Markarth. The boy's reply was only that without an Emperor's guidance the legions of Skyrim would stay in the barracks. He said we would treat with them until one of Titus Mede's son was crowned Emperor." Ulfric began to tell his story.

"And?" Ralof asked. He was hanging on every word that Ulfric said. He had idol worshiped Ulfric since we were but boys.

"When I heard that the death of every man and women who fought the Reachmen twenty years ago would be for naught, that the only reason I did not marry the woman of my dreams was futile I was enraged. I challenged Toryyg to a duel for the right to rule. I challenged him in the Old Ways. He accepted. He knew it would be death. He may have had training but he had never wielded a blade in battle." Ulfric attempted to continue, but Brunwulf interrupted.

"Really Ulfric? On the man's wedding night?" He gasped.

"Does the blood of fair Elisif's maiden head mean more to you than the blood of all of Skyrim's true born sons and daughters?" Ulfric sneered.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, do not dare to insult me in such a way. You speak of my daughter as if she were your world, yet you deny your own son. You act as though you do this all in her memory when we both know your real reasons. And true born sons? I guess Uther can go home since you robbed his mother of her maidenhead before the marriage, then after she birthed your child you left her alone at a camp in the mountains of the Reach for you to go make war!" Brunwulf screamed at Ulfric. Hatred and hurt poured from his mouth with every word. He turned to leave us when he had finished.

"Go defend the darkie scum!" Galmar hissed.

"Galmar enough. Let the man go." Ulfric ordered.

Grim faced, Ulfric turned to assess the situation at hand. A small Imperial army was amassed outside the city. We had two entry points into the city. The gates at the bridge and the gates at the docks. "We need to give our men time to prepare, we need to shut out access through the docks and from the bridge."

"I will lead men to block the city gates." Galmar volunteered. The man did not fear death. He was like a berserker of old.

"Would it not be wiser to use carts, crates, and furniture to block access to the bridge with a small force on this side to ambush any Legionnaires who make it across?" I offered. "We could have archers take them from above."

My assistance was greeted by a snarl from Galmar while Ulfric gave me a sly smile.

The Imperials began to form ranks outside the city. We had an advantage or two, but we still had reason to worry. The city only held two ways inside, the port and the main gate. The enemy had a limited chance to enter. but so to did we have a limited chance of escape.

From my perch atop the walls I looked down at the Imperial Legion gathered below. Ralof and Calder had stayed at my side. We would lead men on the walls trying to take out the invasion force from afar. We commanded a mixed group of Ulfric's militia, the city guard,and the people of the city who chose to fight. We had bows and crossbows of varying designs and makes. I knew not how we would fair.

I heard a shout as men further down the wall began to waste arrows trying to hit the charging force. They were to far away for me to do anything to help the poor souls.

As soon as the thoughts crossed his mind a squad of six tossed grapnel lines near his position. Calder, Ralof, and a few others followed me to defend our location.

Seeing a man in leather armor trying to ascend the walls instantly brought out every ounce of training I had. The gray goose feather tickled my lip as I drew back. With a hiss the arrow shot forth from the bow striking the man in the chest. I had already pulled a second arrow when I realized I was now in the thick of things. Men were assaulting the walls en masse. In my distraction I looked away from the shot and missed.

Turning I saw men running towards us on the wall. Our archers were failing their job. These men had the heavy armor of an Imperial heavy trooper The shine from their steel armor shone in what little sunlight the Gods would give us. Their weapons were a mismatch. Iron and steel bastard swords mixed with Dwarven and Elven short swords. Some carried the kite shield commonly used by the knights and bannermen of the southern province.

Gray goose feather back on my lip, I released the iron arrow. Another came after as soon as I could manage to draw. I caught the lead man in his armor with the first arrow. Despite his armor saving him from that arrow the second would send him on a trip to Sovngarde.

I heard the deeper thump of Calder's heavy Dwarven crossbow. Ralof began to shout. "I got one that time!"

"Well get a few more!" I shouted back.

"Winner gets free beer at the Hearth!" Calder added for good measure.

I pulled another arrow to my lip. I no longer searched for targets. I had free choice of Imperials. Imperials were on the walls, at the gates, climbing the walls. They were everywhere I looked.

My next arrow missed my target, but landed close enough to him to make him reconsider his next move. He did not have long before Calder's bolt took  
his shoulder.

Crossbow bolts are terrible things. An arrow wound is painful, but a bolt is hell if the person survives. The muscle around the affected area is blackened with loose blood. It tears through bone, muscle, and tissue. If you are ever shot with one hope it goes through. The bastards are tough to pull out.  
It was only as the man hobbled away from the defending arrows did I recognize him. His long brown hair fell to his shoulder in the same style it had since we were fifteen.

"Ralof, Did you recognize that man?" I called.

"He only counts for a half, Calder didn't kill him!" He shouted back while releasing another arrow.

"Ralof, that was Hadvar." I looked at him, a grim expression marked my face. Ralof's returned it.

Soon my quiver was empty. I would never know the number of men I sent to Arkay, or the the number I helped an ally send. I just needed more arrows.

The day soon grew to be one large repetition. Pull, Aim, Release. Pull, Aim, Release. My fingers were either stiff or bleeding.

Galmar was below. He lead a group of men and women who were wearing heavy armor toting high damage weapons. If the Legion were going to test Nordic resolve then they would taste Nordic steel. We would not allow our home to be oppressed any longer.

We had blockaded the first archway at the bridge. Now the only way the Imperial Legion was going to enter our ancestral city was to take the upper level and brave our archers. The force of men after Ulfric Stormcloak would attempt to pass the same spot where I had sat with Nilsine. The bridge served as a choke point. Only allowing the invaders to go across one way only opened them up for more opportunities to get shot.

The Legion started their assault by testing our strength. They sent in small squads no bigger than the patrolling groups seen throughout Skyrim. Squad after squad met Arkay at the point of our iron tipped arrows. If we could keep their men back then we might could save our city without loss of a single casualty on our side. No matter how many men the Legate in charge sent, our bowmen would always cut them down.

Our men on bottom were beginning to grow impatient with their own lack of action. They had yet to have the opportunity to shed any enemy blood. From a practical point of view, this worked out for the better. No melee fighting meant better chances of our severely outnumbered force coming out as the victors. We killed any who came close to our men. Yet, these were true Nords. They longed for combat. If they died then they would forever feast in Shor's Hall in Sovngarde. If they were alive at the end of the battle then they would have a claim to honor and glory. It would be hard to keep them in their hiding spot.

Thankfully the Legionnaires did not make us wait long. They had tested our strength and decided we were strong enough to have a taste of their own. They marched a true force onto the bridge. A shield wall went up in front of the men leading the charge. Our arrows would be almost useless.

This is where things would become bad for the Legion. They expected to march an army into our city claim Ulfric as their prisoner and us all to accept it. They had no clue about the force arrayed against them. It would all be easy for them. So they thought. We waited as man after man crossed over above the second arch. They began to spill into the doorway. The Legionnaires had brought no ram and none where adepts of magical pursuits who could blow the door off its ancient hinges. They were trapped.

"Galmar now!" I shouted. The berserkers gathered under Ulfric's banner charged out to meet victory or death. There would be no surrender. The battle cry of enraged Nords defending their homes pierced the sky.

Galmar's men began to slaughter the unsuspecting Imperial's. When the Legionnaires turned to face their new opponents we shot their backs full of arrows. If the turned to shield themselves from our arrows the soldiers under Galmar would cut them down. If they turned to fight the old bear's men then we would send them face down with a pincushion for a back. The blood of the Imperial Legion ran over the sides of the bridge and into the Sea of Ghosts. I began to worry our archers would get carried away. I had ordered only to shoot the front ranks when they became the back ranks. Now the men were shooting wherever they pleased.

"Cease fire!" I commanded. A few stragglers still were aiming shots when Ralof yelled. "Did you not hear your Thane? Cease your damned fire. Do you want to explain to Ulfric how you shot Galmar Stone-Fist?"

As the berserkers killed the remaining men on bottom I looked to see what the Legate would throw at us next. To my utter horror I saw that the Legate was sending most of their remaining forces at us. The ranks of the Legion were beginning to swell. Archers, Horsemen, foot soldiers alike formed rank on the hills of Eastmarch.

I lowered down the rope ladders. "Galmar, come on! They are to big for us to defeat this way. We will need to regroup with the others!"

"Bah, you are green boy. You don't know what you say. We will never surrender! A true Nord never surrenders!" Came the man's reply.

"You idiot, It is not a surrender. Consider it a tactical retreat. We are reinforcing Ulfric's line. You are his housecarl, is it not your duty to fight at his side?"

The older man grudgingly ordered his men up our ladders.

The Imperial archers came first. The Legate sent them just close enough for the arrows to spill the blood of the native Nordic people. Death was sent into the Nordic city by the people who claimed to rule it. The horsemen were effectively useless against our city with no men in the field. They could make no charges, they could cut down no men. However, this commander was a smart tactician. He used the heavily armored cavalry to ride as close to the walls as they could get, dismount, and attempt to throw grapnels over the wall. Our archers attempted to cut them down, but we were met with failure as arrows were turned by the heavy steel armor. All the while the Imperial bowmen continued to kill our men. Eventually seeing my two options as death here being killed by an arrow unable to even try to kill my foe, or death in the field where I can die sword in hand. With hopes of Sovngarde for my men I called for us to retreat from the walls and rejoin Ulfric's group.

"Open the damned gates! Let it not be said Ulfric Stormcloak allowed the gates of Windhelm to be broken down. Those gates have stood since the Second Era. Let us kill every Imperial bastard who steps through the gates of my city, of our city. We are the true born sons of Talos. Victory or Sovngarde I say! Either the bards will sing of this day for years to come, or we will feast in Sovngarde with Shor!"

Ulfric began one of his many speeches. As a Thane I had heard his speeches. I had spent months learning the ways of the court. The men however had few chances to hear Ulfric's charismatic speeches. If they were to die today, let them believe they died for Skyrim. For the wolves of winter would not go hungry with war waging in the wilds of Skyrim.

"Tulius leads his men well." Ulfric commented drily.

"The General Tulius?" I asked, stunned stupid. General Tulius is one of the children of Titus Mede. Titus had two sons and a daughter. His eldest son was killed in the taking of the Imperial City during the Great War. He was as charismatic as the Emperor as well as skilled in the art of war. Tulius has the talent for war with none of the love of the people. He was just and fair, yet strict and firm. His younger brother Aelius was beloved by any who met him. Tulius was a strict and sour older man. He had been old enough to fight in the War and it had scarred him horrible. Aelius however was a younger lad. He spent the war in a castle that had once belonged to the Hero of Kvatch. The late Emperor Titus Mede the Second had failed to name an heir before the Dark Brotherhood took his life.

"Yes, boy. General Tulius Mede. He was made military governor of Skyrim, stationed in Solitude. If he were closer to his father he may have been aboard the vessel when his father was killed." Ulfric replied.

"Well, the stories are true then. He fights better than any commander has since the Septim's line ended." Galmar growled.

We had gathered at a high point in the city, an arch near the castle. The army below was preparing to attempt seize the city. Oddly enough no siege towers, ballista, or any siege weapons were being constructed. When I commented on this, Ulfric informed me the Empire had begun to use battle mages after the war with the Elves.

"If the mages are dead, then they will have no known siege weapons? Nothing besides archers to attack at long range?" I asked.

As Ulfric confirmed this the order to open the gates had finally been relayed to the men on the wall. They began to crank the winches that allowed the gates of the ancient city of Windhelm. These were the same gates that Jarl Joruun the Skald-King had made during the Second Era. We would not allow our city to fall, but we could not allow the gates to be destroyed either.

Imperial foot soldiers poured in through the city gates. They came as the first rain of spring floods the dry riverbanks. One burst as a flood. Had they faced a lesser people they would have easily overcome the defenders. These, however were men who were raised on battle. Raised to fight, trained to kill for their beliefs.

Imperial soldiers clad in their crimson armor crashed into the Nords loyal to Ulfric. The ocean of blue was violently assaulted by a red wave. The wave soon became a tide. Men who believed Ulfric to be the killer of their Emperor and men who knew Ulfric had killed the High King all sought vengeance.

I watched from my elevated position as Ulfric's men tried to repel the soldiers. Two men in particular stood out to me. They appeared to be related in someway. The men looked to be near identical, the only difference being the banner they fought under. The legionnaire swung at his Stormcloak brother, I say brother in assumption, the short Imperial sword coming just short of the man's chest. The loyal son of Skyrim brought his mace down in kind. The Imperial used his sword to catch the haft of the mace only to be punched by the Stormcloak. The two must share blood with each other, yet by the end of the day they would lay in a shared pool of blood together. The war for the liberation of Skyrim had begun.

Blood mixed with dirt and soil in the first true fighting Windhelm had seen in centuries.

"Ulfric, I am going to go fight." I announced after watching our men being cut down one by one. Our archers who remained on the walls now either succumbing to the the mage fire or fell shot full of arrows. One man had an arrow half shaft deep in his gut, while another had his throat opened by the flames of an Imperial mage. Our men needed a rallying point. They needed someone they could stand behind and fight for.

Charging into the foray I ripped my Nordic longsword from it's sheath when a lightly armored scout tried to dance around me. He was fast I will give him that. Just not fast enough to escape death. My Nordic steel blade opened his stomach from right to left. His intestines burst forth. The man looked me in the eyes and then began to attempt to shove his guts back inside his body. They were internal organs after all.

I then ran to a heavily armored man swinging a great sword. The man put all of his weight behind every swing. I carried no shield and would not be fast enough to dart under this man. I just hoped he would tire out before I would. His sword beat down upon mine. If I still used the old gladius from home I would have been dead long before. This new curved blade was strong enough to hold his back. Swing, parry, return. Dodge, counter, feint. It seemed no matter which tactic I tried, no matter which combination of moves I could not break this man's defenses. After what seemed to be hours of fighting ,though I knew it to only be minutes, I saw that he had tired and left a gap. I buried my steel into his helmet. Nordic steel sheers through the cheap steel every time. My blade bit into his skull and he fell back to the ground dead.

I looked out to find Ulfric fighting as well, slashing his way through Imperial lines laughing like a raving lunatic. Then it happened. I had heard rumors and stories all my life, but I had always assumed them to be nothing more than stories. He shouted, "**FUS**!" Anyone caught in the radius of his Thu'um was sent reeling backwards. Ulfric proceeded to pierce, stab or decapitate anyone who could not recover in time.

I now understood why he and Galmar seemed so calm before the action truly picked up. It's not that they do not fear this. It's that the revel in this. After watching the two fight I know they live for the fight. They live for war. The Great War had horribly changed these men.

It did not take me long to figure out we were winning this battle. I scanned the battlefield to see our blue brothers swarming the crimson colored cowards. I watched as one Stormcloak impaled an Imperial on his great sword. The sword went from the man's back through his chest and the force was so great it picked the man up. I saw that of the two brothers I had watched fighting the man loyal to Ulfric was dead at his brother's feet. However, the kin slayer was surrounded by our men and death would soon be upon him. A stormcloak was fighting against a crowd, invoking Talos name as he fought. The a gladius caught his words in his newly opened throat.

Every time we would wash over our enemies and push them back to the gate, a new wave would rush in and sweep us back. We seemed to be a tide in the moon cycle. The ebb and flow of the battle seemed to waver as if we were some game the gods played.

The real battle was at the Stone District, Yrsarald had men lined up deep in ranks. That was odd, the Stormcloaks were a non regimental fighting force. It truly showed how desperate the situation was that we had formed ranks. Spears and great swords were pointed at the incoming Imperials. They crashed into the line as if they weapons were not there. Slowly step by we retreated up the way to the Palace.

As all hope seemed lost. We had been beaten back to the main courtyard of the Palace. The fighting was at it's worst. We had lost most of our number. Ulfric's great scheme seemed to be dying in its infancy. Then Brunwulf came in with his reinforcements.

Dunmer battle mages began to throw spells down upon the Imperial host. Argonians slid into the battle. Upon the parapets of the castle archers lined up, bowstrings tight, arrowheads aimed and ready to rain death.

"For Skyrim!" Brunwulf shouted.

The war cry of the people drowned out all other noises that day. I would never hear anything louder until I heard Alduin's cries. From that point on it was a complete and total loss for the Imperial Legion. We pushed them back from the Palace to the walls. From the outskirts of the city to the hills of the Eastmarch. I stood next to Brunwulf as Tulius banner rode back to Solitude.

"How did you rally the people? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh I didn't." He laughed. It was quite comical to see my grandfather covered in blood, laughing at some inside joke. I had no clue what we laughed over, but I began to join in.

"You rallied them. You gained their love and respect. I did no such thing. I went to their leaders and told them what was happening. We waited and watched as the Battle of Windhelm took place. Then when we saw our moment we took them by surprise." He beamed.

"You old bastard." I laughed back at him.

Ulfric came walking up. He had changed into a mixture of his Jarl's clothes and Stormcloak armor.

"What in the realms of Oblivion is that?" I asked laughing at the normally pessimistic older man.

"It is the armor of the Storm Lords." He answered. His face still sour. "In the times before a true High King they wore this to show their dominance both at home and on the field of battle. The Stormcloak's have had an old set for centuries, never used. I had Oengul War-Hammer look at it. He forged me a new suit while updating it."

Brunwulf had not even taken an interest in Ulfric's presence. Ulfric noticed this and requested they speak after Ulfric talked with me.

"Yes My Jarl?" I asked.

"I heard you did well today." Ulfric inquired.

"Well? I killed men for no reason other than being told. I watched two brothers kill each other. I had a man's brain splatter all over me. I did not do well. I am still trying to get the vomit out of the hair on my chin!" I yelled back. I was only half kidding with him. I had retched everywhere after the battle. It took a great deal out of me.

"I am sorry to hear you have the stomach of a small Breton girl." Ulfric laughed. " But I have a new assignment for you." At this I stood at attention. "I have picked up on the fact that you are a natural leader and you have excellent military training. I am asking you to lead your own group. You will only answer to me, you will operate outside of any control other than my own. Do you accept?"

"Yes My Jarl." I struggled to get out. I was a green recruit. Sure I had plenty of experience in fights, but battles. I had one battle under my belt. What in the name of Dibella's holy body did this man think he was doing?

"I have a list of people for you to recruit. I give you Ralof of Riverwood as I know how well you two know each other and how well you two fight together. Calder will go as well. He is your housecarl, I know you have had little to do with each other but maybe one day soon you will be as I and his father are. Past that I have but a few people I request you get. Onnmund is a Nordic sorcerer in Winterhold. His father is Thoryyg Sun-Killer the commander of our forces who will head to Falkreath. I don't like any of the magic bastards but you will need a healer of some sorts in the least. After that I want you to recruit a local hero to your side. If she joins the Stormcloaks popular support will swarm to our side. Head to Riften and recruit someone known as the Lioness. Then go to a place known as a fortress of the Thalmor. Thorald Gray-Mane has been taken there. His family is in Whiterun and may could help you. The Gray-Manes are one of the oldest of clans in Skyrim. They support our movement. Thorald needs to be rescued and if willing could join you as the blacksmith of your little group. Last on the list of people I want you to recruit is someone your age named Erik. He lives in Rorikstead. He will need armor and some training."

"Why am I recruiting someone with no armor or training?" I asked. To me it sounded dumb, but I would not question.

"He is my son." Ulfric answered.

I looked my jarl and lord in the face and wished I had never journeyed here. I had come to meet me father. I had been laughed out of court, denied, and now sent on a quest to find someone he claimed as a son.

"Did you not love my mother?" I scolded. The hurt in Ulfric's expression was unmistakable.

"I was at the bar in Rorikstead one night coming back from a meeting of the Jarls when a small Breton came up challenging me to a drinking match. The next thing I knew I woke up weeks later in Markarth. In the weeks after the drinking contest I had stolen a goat, sold the goat to a giant, married a hagraven. Killed the hagraven, slept with the innkeepers wife in Rorikstead, impregnated half of the priestesses of Dibella. I found out the small Breton man was none other than Sanguine. I have never married out of love for your mother, and the regrets of my actions while under Sanguine's magic. The Thalmor captured me during the War and did horrible twisted things to me. She was the only person who made me feel okay, then they took her from me. I would do anything to have her back."

"That is why you hate magic." It was not a question. "Magic users took her from you then a magic user caused you to ruin her memory.

"We will talk later boy. When you return I will have Galmar's pick for you to approve of to join your motley gang. Then I have a delivery I need to send to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the month gap in between updates. I think I have a new system worked out so I can hopefully update more frequently. This chapter is half of what I normally post in length as it and the next were intended to be one chapter. I just could not find a way to make them work together. So here is the first part of the start to the Skyrim Civil War. **

**The Winter War**

The fallout of our talk still had not settled well to my ears. Not only was a Ulfric's bastard, but there were many of his bastards out there. I don't care if he became celibate from that day until now. He was with my mother and they had me. Then he is with a random innkeeper's wife and half the Temple of Dibella. I have no use or Ulfric Stormcloak. I only choose to continue on this path because it seems to be the ones the Gods have for me.

This path does not seem to be an easy one. I sat down at the fire overlooking Northwatch Keep.

We camped at the wreck of a chip on the northern coast. It was not a dark night as the northern lights glared off the Sea of Ghosts. Since we had cleared out the bandits who stayed here we did not have to worry about a fire. The Thalmor bastards would be so accustomed to the flames of these delinquents that they would assume us to be them. I hate the Thalmor for assuming us to be a lesser race than them, yet here it works to our advantage.

Ralof was cooking over the fire, our small group was all getting settled in for the night. Onmund was going around the camp setting wards, or something like that to keep people out. Mjoll just stared out at the Sea of Ghosts. Her recruitment had been the worst. It had broke me as a person.

…**...**

Calder had been sent to Winterhold to collect the mage. Ralof and I walked through the doors of Riften with little trouble. We had heard rumors of the guards having a "visitor's tax", but our Stormcloak uniforms got us past the guards with no issue.

I was stunned to see Riften in the state it is in. I know it is as corrupt as Markarth but I did not realize how many homeless people were in the streets. The debris cluttered the already narrow walkways. A dark haired Nord leaned against a wooden beam. His armor was covered in marks and dents to show that this man did not play games.

"I don't know you. You in Riften lookin for trouble?" His tone was incredibly hateful. If he couldn't speak to a visitor without causing a scene he wouldn't be speaking to the visitor. Ralof thankfully followed my lead. The rain that seemed to stay ever present in the Rift poured down on us. Our blue hoods covered our heads but did little good as they were already soaked through. I assume we must look menacing enough.

"You can pretend not to hear me all you want... but you better stay out of the Black-Briars' business." He shouted. If he works for the Black-Briars maybe just maybe I don't need to blow this guy off. I know if Ulfric claimed me I would be untouchable, but as my current situation was I needed to not make any enemies. "Look we are just passing through." I turned to the man. I did not care to explain but I felt the need to not burn this bridge. Maven was only motivated by money, but maybe she could be an important ally, maybe.

_"_Yeah? Well, I got news for you; there's nothing to see here. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some stranger stickin' their nose where it doesn't belong." He snorted back at me. This man is insufferable.

"What's it to you?" Ralof jabbed back. I know that Ralof is intensely loyal to his friends, but he is starting a fight with one of Maven Black-Briars lapdogs. I know I have little experience in court, but what little I have learned has taught me about that.

"Don't say something you'll regret. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some loudmouth tryin' to meddle in their affairs."

"I'm not scared of you." Ralof replied. His hand rested on his sword. It was not on the grip, just resting. The threat was only implied.

"That's the wrong answer. Last thing the Black-Briars need around here is some troublemaker tryin' to steal a piece of the action."

"Hold, What action? We are two Stormcloak soldiers on official business within the city. We have no cause to interfere with your "action."" I did my best to diffuse the situation.

His response told me I had not actually help. "Yeah, walk away like a good doggie. Just stay out of the Black-Briars' business and maybe we'll give you a bone. Now you aren't worth my time. Piss off." With that the grouchy Nord thug walked off, probably to go skulk or terrorize small children and old women.

"Did you really have to try to pick a fight with Maven's dog?" I turned to look at Ralof.

"Can we do this inside, out of the rain, with an ale in our hands?"

That night I woke to a blade at my throat. A red headed Nord in tight leathers was over me with a wicked looking blade.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to cross the Thieves Guild, lad?" The thief smiled. I look to see a smaller thief wearing the same armor standing over Ralof. "Bryn, you know we don't do killings. Even Mercer wouldn't have approved." Her voice was oddly familiar.

"Ara..Aranwen?" I tried to ask with his blade at my throat. I could feel a sliver of blood trickle down my throat as he nicked me. "Careful lad. I would hate for you to have an accident."

"Uther? Uther. Bryn, get off him. They are both protected. I'll talk to Maven myself."

The red haired Nord got off of me and I immediately burst up to give her a hug. He slammed into me again. "I don't know your history, lad. She is mine now. Deal with that." This time he helped me up.

Aranwen looked hurt. She looked hurt. Imagine how I felt.

"Uther, I am sorry this is how we meet again." Her voice sounded sad. Ralof just looked confused.

"Aranwen what happened to you? I left you in Whiterun a hero to the people and now you are part of the Thieves Guild? You are oppressing the people of Riften? I thought the Guild used to be a "steal from the rich and feed the poor" type, I get here and am threatened within five minutes of walking in and I wake to you two with blades at our throats." I yelled at her. If anyone was still asleep they would be awake now.

The pained expression on her face only got worse. The red haired Nord turned to say something to me when my fist met his face. He collapsed to the ground. Aranwen shrieked.

When I looked at her like that all of my anger left me. This is the girl I had been dreaming of since I had last seen her. Maybe it was stupid of me, but there was obviously something between us or she would not have had this reaction. I just had to know two things and I would leave her.

"Uther I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry." She kept repeating herself. The tears rolled down her face.

"Aranwen what happened to you?" I asked. My voice broke as I asked.

"Things change Uther, People change. Something happened and I was left broken. I came to Riften just to try to find a way out, and Brynolf picked me up. He put me back together." She tried to explain between the tears.

"So he was there for you the way you were for me? Because I was not there for you? I wanted you there. I wanted to stay with you, you sent me away. Did I mean anything to you?" I shouted back.

She gave no reply. Her head merely dropped.

"Get out! If I see any Thieves Guild member again I will not hesitate to run my sword through their chest. Wake up him and leave." I tried to yell at her. My voice caught and broke.

"Ralof stand watch. Wake me in two hours. If anyone tries to come through and you are suspicious run them through. We are now in a hostile environment." I turned to see Aranwen still struggling to wake Brynjolf up. I walked over and kicked the Nord. Not incredibly hard, but hard enough he would feel it in the morning. He did not budge. I threw his weight over my shoulder and carried his down the stairs. When I got to the main room of the tavern the Argonian barkeep just turned to look at me. I nodded, "Just to let you know, next time someone wants to kill the son of Ulfric Stormcloak make sure they do it. Failure never looks good for anyone. When this man wakes up give him an ale and make sure his jaw is okay."

The next day we found Mjoll easily enough. She was walking around with some little Imperial complaining about the city.

"Lioness?" I inquired.

"How may I help a brother Nord?" She answered. I could see why she was a champion of the people.

"I am Uther Stormblade. I am recruiting people to be in a group to defend Skyrim and her people." I told her.

"I am not joining your war effort brother Nord. I will defend the people of Riften before I worry about Skyrim as a whole." She answered politely.

"Lioness, I am asking you this for a reason. You will represent the people of Riften, when this war is over I will accompany you to drag the Guild out of Riften." I knew not what else to do. I needed this woman for whatever reason. Maybe it was Aranwen's rejection I would not be rejected by anyone again.

"And who are you to lead the armies of Skyirm? What recognition do you have?" She asked. A smirk ran across her painted face.

"I am Thane of Windhelm, a leader in the Stormcloak militia. I fought in the defense of Windhelm. My father is Ulfric Stormcloak. I will do everything in my power to help this city with it's plight. I need your help first." I returned. My face was calm, my voice unwavering. I would not let her know how desperately we needed her.

"Swear by the Gods. On your honor as a Nord?" She demanded.

"I swear by the Nine."

We left her to prepare for our adventure. As we did not know when if ever we would be back she had some farewells. We told her to met us at the inn.

"You didn't bother to tell her you are Ulfric's bastard?" Ralof grinned.

"We needed her. She did not need to know." I explained with a smile.

…**...**

"Do you see that castle?" Mjoll asked. The woman was good in a fight but she talked way too much for my liking.

"Yes What of it?" Ralof answered with his own question. The two of them had seemed to click as if joined at the hip. Calder and I had teased him quite frequently since we met up with the redhead. "My father used to tell me stories of it. That it was ruled by a clan of vampires who used to lord over all of Haafingar." She told her story. "Nonsense! That was a ghost story meant to scare kids around a fire." Onmund complained. Mjoll laughed good naturedly." Well we are around a fire now aren't we?"

I had yet to take my eyes off the walls of the keep in the distance. Not the haunted one off the coast of Skyrim, but the one we were to attack on the morrow. It's walls seemed even grayer in the twilight hours. The twin moons giving off a decent amount of light.

We followed the shoreline until we came to the back entrance of the Keep. Two Thalmor were standing guard. We had chosen to attack in the midst of one of Skyrim's many blizzards. Kyne herself watched over her people. Lucky for Calder and myself, the elves golden armor stood out in the blizzard. What we had intended to be a stealthy approach and massacre of the outside guards severely backfired. We hadn't taken into account the power of Calder's crossbow. The bolt tore through the first sentries throat as my arrow took the other guard in the face. The part that got us was the bolt slamming into the wooden door. The guard on the other side opened it expecting his comrades to be needing some form of help. His shout of confusion warned his fellow supremacists of our arrival. It was over before it really began. These overlords were fighting Nordic warriors on Nordic land in Nordic weather. The blizzard affected us. I was slightly cold, but they were fumbling blindly. Like children in the dark. I shot two off a platform on top of the Keep before I followed my companions into the yard. Ralof stood at the door. His shoulders moved up and down as he labored to catch his breath. Both of his axes were covered in the blood of the High Elves. Mjoll held out Grimsever. The green blade was also coated in the thick blood of our enemies. Drawing my sword I nodded at Calder. With a kick he brought the front door down off it's hinges. We ran in expecting to come under fire in mere seconds. We were stunned to find the place deserted. Descending the first part of stairs we came to store room. A hooded Elf berated an armor clad soldier. I motioned for Calder. I held up three fingers, two, one. His bolt raced through the air piercing the back of the hood and into the Elf's skull. As the body crumpled, the soldier began to draw steel. I leapt over the body and before it could hit the ground hers came down with it. The next room we entered was a bar of some sorts. Room for these Thalmor to lounge around in. Three soldiers were sitting around drinking Nordic mead. I find it ironic that they had drunk so much of our mead that they had posed no threat as a combat unit. The only threat came when one summoned flames into his hands while surrounded by alcohol. Onmund put an ice spike through his hand before he could finish his incantation. Mjoll's sword followed next. She split him open balls to brain. Oddly enough the bar was located directly next to the barracks sleeping room. Five more elves met us as we rounded the corner. I lowered a shoulder into a mage tackling him to the ground. My blade sank into his stomach as we crashed hard. I came up to find an archer training her sights on Mjoll. Had she survived what happened next she would have been blind in one eye, my blade came swinging around to connect with her body. She saw me or heard me and turned to meet me. My sword shattered her bow sending splinters all into her face. The knife she tried to wield next did her no good. We found weapons placed all over the walls as trophies. Not regular steel, Nordic steel. Then we freed the prisoners. A Nordic man, an Imperial woman, an Argonian, and a Khajiit. I sent Calder and Mjoll with them to take them to Rorikstead. I told them we would meet them there after we found Thorald. I did not know what we would see when we found him. Certain things can not be unseen. Certain memories can not be forgotten. Until the day I die I will not forget what the Thalmor did to the people in that torture room. Emaciated bodies were chained up all over the room. Limbs had been sectioned off from bodies. The interrogator was killing them when we entered. He did not want us to free anymore than we already had. He was standing over Thorald Gray-Mane dagger in hand. Thorald is big even for a Nord, but what this Elf had done to him was wrong on so many levels. Onmund buried his face with ice as we raced to free Thorald. They had burned his hands to negate how well he could use them. The heir to the Skyforge with crippled hands. The had shocked his body countless times to prevent him from sleeping. "Onmund do your best for him. We have to get going quick." I ordered the mage to begin his work. In Onmund's defense he was not a Restoration mage, he trained in Destruction. I could heal Thorald better using alchemy than Onmund could using magicka, but there was no where around for me to begin to set things right and no where near the amount of time required. We would make due. When Onmund had done all he could and Thorald assured us he could travel we set out on the long road to Rorikstead. It was time to meet my little brother. 


End file.
